


Overheard

by VoidofRoses



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), Legend of the Three Caballeros (Cartoon), The Three Caballeros (1944)
Genre: M/M, Webby Vanderquack is a closet Three Caballeros fangirl, but like nothing too explicit, but she didn’t figure out that Donald was the third Caballero, her McDuck clan board is going to explode with this new information, look the guys haven’t gotten to touch Donald in YEARS can u blame them?, slightly nsfw in other chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: “Since when does Uncle Donald know Spanish?” he whispered to Webby, who shrugged and looked at him over her shoulder.“And Portuguese. He’s been talking on the phone for an hour now,” she said, turning her attention back to the duck in question. “I have a theory but…those guys are too busy flirting with him for me to determine their intentions.”a.k.a Dewey and Webby overhear Donald talking to two strange guys over the phone early in the morning





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr prompt or headcanon I saw somewhere, can’t remember where exactly. Takes place post S01E23. Legend of the Three Caballeros took place fifteen years ago to match Ducktales 2017 timeline.

The morning after the shadow war, as it had been dubbed by the media, was a weird one.

Waking up in the same bed as Huey and Louie wasn’t strange in and of itself, but the recent addition to their duck pile was nowhere to be found. Dewey yawned, pondered the possibility that Webby had just gotten up to go to the toilet, and then clambered over his older brother, who murmured something in his sleep and flopped over onto his other side, practically on top of their younger brother, who let out something curiously resembling a ‘meh’ and didn’t move.

Scratching his tail feathers, Dewey shifted his night shirt from where it had wrapped around him the other way in the middle of the night, smacked his beak and left the bedroom in search of their honorary sister. The mansion smelled vaguely of pizza and Pep, Mrs Beakley having spent a good hour scolding Uncle Scrooge for not taking better care of himself over the last few days before whipping out the vacuum cleaner and shoving it at the ageing adventurer. Everyone had pitched in to clean up and Scrooge, having had his favourite comfort food ruined for him for a bit, ordered Mexican instead.

Dewey glanced around blearily before he spotted Webby peeking through the open kitchen door, the crack just enough to shed some light over the floor in the dark of the morning. Her shadow stretched out, up the wall, and for a second Dewey could’ve sworn it looked like someone else before he shook his head and the illusion was gone.

“Hey, Webb…”

She shushed him, reaching out to clasp his beak shut with slight annoyance, though Dewey knew her well enough by now that he knew she wasn’t annoyed at him. Whatever was happening in the kitchens was doing it, and he pushed her hand off his beak before joining her at the door, looking over her shoulder. There was unintelligible squawking coming from the room, a frustrated noise immediately telling him it was Uncle Donald, but…

Was he…speaking _SPANISH_?

“Since when does Uncle Donald know Spanish?” he whispered to Webby, who shrugged and looked at him over her shoulder.

“And Portuguese. He’s been talking on the phone for an hour now,” she said, turning her attention back to the duck in question. “I have a theory but…those guys are too busy flirting with him for me to determine their intentions.”

Uncle Donald? Flirting? Dewey raised an eyebrow and strained his ears. He knew some Spanish from school, but just the basic touristy type stuff. “Maybe we should wake Huey. He’s fluent in, like, four languages.”

“That’s what I’ve got a tape recorder for!” Webby whipped her hand around to show him, then shushed him again. “Now be quiet.”

The two of them settled down into silence as Donald continued speaking, before both he and the mystery guys on the phone switched to English. He rested his head on his hand, sighing. “I dunno if it’s safe for you guys to visit, yet. With Magica’s whole shadow war thing, everyone’s on edge, and I know Uncle Scrooge wouldn’t like magic in the house.”

“Then I will not use magic while I am there,” came a soothing voice over the phone, and Dewey realised it was on video. Peering into the kitchen, he could see two blurs on Donald’s screen before his eyes adjusted and he could see better, the tone belonging to what appeared to be…a green parrot? “Do not worry, _meu amor_. I can talk my way out of trouble. No need for black magic for that.”

Webby’s eyes widened and she turned to Dewey, mouthing ‘black magic?’ to him. Dewey shrugged, then nudged her attention back to the kitchen doorway.

“ _Sí_ , and I will be there to keep him out of said trouble!” The second voice was chirpier and less smooth than the first, the video cutting to a rooster wearing a sombrero, who put his arm around the parrot. “Don’t worry about us, Donald, you know how much we’ve been dying to meet your family!”

“This isn’t Three Caballeros stuff, Panchito, this is my Uncle we’re talking about.”

“Ah those were the days, were they not?” The parrot sighed and flicked ash off a cigar. “Besides, I ‘ave not held your hand in ten years, Donal’. Think of how much we missed!”

Donald squawked and went bright red before he buried his face in his hand, earning him laughs from the two on screen. “Damnit, Zé, I have a reputation…”

“We will be there in two days time, _mi amore_ ,” Panchito said, seemingly attempting to stop Zé from embarrassing him any further. “Wait for us.”

Two kisses and the screen went blank and Donald buried his face deeper into his hands, his beak burning red. Thank god there was no one aro…

“The Three Caballeros?!”

Ah phooey.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewey and Webby get answers. Some at least. And Donald gets to reminisce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was easier to punch out than I thought it would be after finishing the first part. There will be a third part coming, and who knows how many after that (maybe five, but who’s counting?)

Donald pinched the bridge of his beak and yawned, waiting for the kettle to boil as he looked at the time, then glanced over his shoulder at the two ducklings sitting at the table, Dewey with his arms crossed and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, while Webby bounced in her seat excitedly, tape recorder in her hand with the record button ready to be pushed.

In another hour or so, Mrs Beakley would be up and about, beginning to make breakfast for the clan in order to start on getting the mansion back together.

In another two hours, Uncle Scrooge would be awake, emerging from the master bedroom and in the mood for his nutmeg tea before the morning newspaper.

In another three hours, Huey and Louie would come into the kitchen grumbling about food.

He’d thought that he’d have plenty of time to spend it talking to Panchito and José, having seen a text from them the night before, asking about that news segment after the shadow war. The time difference between Duckburg and São Paulo was minimal, but enough that it meant that he needed to wake a few hours before the crack of dawn to talk to his two partners. It had been routine over the last ten years, waking up to talk to them before getting the boys dressed and ready for the day, going to job after job after job just to keep the houseboat afloat.

His heart ached.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Donald sat back down at the kitchen table, cradling the mug in his hands. One look at Dewey told him everything – he’d said no more secrets, and he promised to keep it that way. With a heavy sigh and a sip of his coffee, Donald opened his mouth…

The button on the tape recorder clicked.

“How long have you been a Caballero? Is it true that you guys beat Lord Felldrake and saved New Quackmore? WhydidPanchitogivebeingaluchador? ISITTRUETHATJOSÉ…?!”

Webby’s voice got louder and louder with each question before Donald held up his hands, only for Dewey to take the initiative and clamp his hand around her beak, reducing her to squeaking around his fingers before she glared at him and stuck her tongue out to lick his hand. “Joke’s on you, Louie does that all the time,” Dewey said smugly, before returning his attention to his Uncle. “How long have you been getting up at the crack of dawn to talk to those guys?”

“Since just after you were born,” Donald replied, his tone surprisingly calm. Sure, he was kind of annoyed that they had discovered his morning habit, but it really was time the cat was out of the bag. “I was up with you and Louie most of the time anyway, so it…gave me someone to talk to.” He glanced away, sipping at his coffee. “After…after the Spear of Selene, I looked after your eggs alone. Uncle Scrooge and I weren’t talking, and he was too busy trying to get Della back to care about what she left behind.” He paused, brow furrowing. No, that was the wrong choice of words. “Panchito and Zé came all the way from Brazil and Mexico to cheer me up on my birthday, and they just…stuck around.”

He turned towards Webby, who was busy squirming in her seat and trying to smack Dewey’s hand away. “As for how long…well, it was about five years before the boys hatched. I got my inheritance from our Great Uncle Coot and moved into a cabana in New Quackmore, and it turned out he’d left it to them too.” That seemed like so long ago now, and Donald rested his head in a hand, the other wrapped around his coffee as he looked off to the side. “Uncle Scrooge and Della were too busy, my house had burned down and I’d lost my job and my girlfriend all in the same day.”

“Girlfriend? You mean…that Daisy chick you used to tell us about?” Dewey tapped his finger to his chin, then pulled his other away from Webby’s mouth at last to count. “How come we only saw photos of her growing up and not these other two guys?”

Donald’s brow furrowed, before he pursed his beak together and took another sip of his coffee. “It was…difficult to get them to sit still for photos, and I assumed that you’d remember them.” Pulling his wallet out from his sailor shirt, Donald pulled a photo from a pocket, passing it over to Dewey. “They did help me raise you for the first eighteen months after all.”

Dewey felt a weird sense of déjà vu as he looked at the photo. There, in the image, Donald held him, while Huey and Louie were held by Panchito and José respectively, their colours matching the triplets with ease, Louie making attempts to grab José’s hat while Panchito and Uncle Donald laughed at him. They couldn’t have been more than six months old in this, and Dewey felt the cold sting of…annoyance? He didn’t know, but Uncle Donald had kept this from them for some reason. “Why?” he asked, looking up at Donald, who shrugged and looked down at his coffee guiltily.

“Things were tough,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “I could barely afford the formula to feed the three of you, let alone myself and them, even with Panchito wrestling for the money despite it being against his code. We decided it was probably better if we split ways, rather than waiting for me to land a job or Zé to get citizenship. Even though we married in order to raise you, it was technically illegal back then.”

Webby let out a high pitched squeal that made both Donald and Dewey wince, before the older duck pulled a necklace out from under his shirt, a distinct clink sounding as two rings hit his chest, red and green gems bound in gold. He sighed a little, shoulders sagging with some kind of relief. It felt better to have this side of him out in the open, less of a weight on his shoulders, and he got to tell the kids this, not have it ripped away from him like the way Scrooge had told them about the Spear of Selene.

“Huey and Louie should know,” Dewey said after a full minute of silence, his fingers tracing the old photograph before passing it back to Donald. “Especially if they’re coming in a couple of days. And I want a copy.”

“Deal, but only if you’ll let me tell Uncle Scrooge first. The mansion is still his place after all.”

Webby sighed a bit, her feet kicking under the chair as she smiled, happy that her family wasn’t going to be torn apart again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge and Donald mend some bridges they burned long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s; in case it’s not clear, I’m not familiar with writing for Ducks, so lmk if anything seems off 

Scrooge looked over the top of the newspaper, cup of nutmeg tea in hand. The dining table was deserted except for Donald, who kept looking at him like he wanted to say something. It wasn’t unusual for the kids to sleep in, but it was definitely unusual for Donald to be here, considering…oh, wait, Bentina had said that the houseboat had crashed and burned durning the shadow war.

But still, that look was something that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“What’s on your mind, lad?” he finally asked, placing the newspaper down on the table, folding it in half so that he could see that he had his uncle’s undivided attention. If there was anything Scrooge had decided in the last four days, it was that he should listen to his kin more, and Donald…well, he could admit that he hadn’t been particularly attentive on the lad when he was a wee babe. Seeing that he had Scrooge’s attention, Donald nearly dropped his fork. He’d had a couple of hours to think about it now, but he hadn’t really decided what he was going to say, even with Dewey and Webby attempting to help. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. “Donald?”

His uncle’s voice wasn’t warning, but oddly calm, hand wrapped around his tea as he took a sip, looking at him expectantly. Donald fumbled with his cutlery, placing them crossed on the plate, and drummed his fingers on the table before he decided to just go for it. What was the worst that could happen? “I’m…well, Uncle Scrooge, you…remember when Great Uncle Coot died?”

The older duck raised an eyebrow, the clink of fine china tapping the saucer as he put his cup down sounding through the dining hall. He couldn’t say he remembered – he’d been out on an adventure with Della, after all, hadn’t even been back in time to attend the funeral. “Aye, what of it?” 

Donald closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing before he flipped out or panicked and ditched the conversation all together. His fingers clenched at the table, before he breathed a small breath out. “I think it’s time we had a talk. About that.”

Scrooge frowned, but he shifted out of the seat at the end of the table, taking hold of his cane and closing the distance between him and his nephew. Using his foot, he pulled out the seat next to Donald, sitting down in it so that he was near him instead of halfway across the room. Della might have been his unabashed favourite, but he’d still raised Donald enough to recognise when he was close to panicking. “Alright. I’m listening, lad.”

Donald closed his eyes and began blurting out the whole story. How his house had burned down and he’d lost his job, how the letter from Uncle Coot’s lawyer had come announcing his inheritance. From the mixup of the houses to travelling the world with a goddess trapped in a magic book, harnessing the power of their ancestor to defeat some madman named Felldrake. If Scrooge wasn’t an adventurer himself, he would’ve called Donald daft and a lunatic but, well, adventure and danger was in their blood (that, and he remembered that hole in his money bin!).

And whenever Donald talked about his two other travelling companions, he got this faraway look in his eyes Scrooge could remember having whenever he himself had talked about Goldie, distinctly recalling Bentina’s eyeroll back in their agent days. By the time Donald was near finished, he had his eyes closed, arms wrapped around himself and looking as small and wee as when he’d been dropped off on Scrooge’s doorstep by his sister Hortense for the summer.

“They helped me raise the boys, the first two years,” Donald said, his voice quiet now, the previous anxiety from before gone. Scrooge had barely moved through the whole story, his fingers gripping his cane in one hand and placed gently on Donald’s with the other. “But we had to part due to financial issues.”

“I…laddie, you should’ve come to me.”

“We weren’t talking,” Donald replied, closing his eyes. “I still hated you for what happened to Della. I wanted to keep the boys as far from you as possible.” That? That stung, but it was well deserved. Scrooge winced, but didn’t say anything. “Panchito and Zé decided it was better for them to go back home, so that I could feed the boys. But…there was one thing that we did get to before they left.” Reaching under his shirt, Donald pulled out a leather strap of sorts, and Scrooge’s gaze fell upon the two rings hanging from it, a little speechless.

“You’re…you’re married?” Donald? _Married_??? It just did not compute in Scrooge’s head. He raised a hand to run it through his feathery sideburns, blinking in surprise.

“Well, not officially.” Donald shrugged, looking down and fingering the rings with his free hand. “The register wouldn’t accept it back then.”

Scrooge’s brow furrowed deeper before he sighed and sank back in his chair. “Curse me kilts,” he muttered, fingers gripping his cane. “If I hadn’t built that blasted spaceship, none of this would have happened.” Goddamnit past Scrooge. He inhaled and let it out, looking at his nephew. “You say you’re still in contact with these lads of yours?”

Donald nodded.

“Then I think you should call them.” He picked up and passed Donald’s phone to him from where it sat ahead of his breakfast plate, handing it to him gingerly. “And tell them they’re invited to Duckburg anytime.” Scrooge raised his hand after the phone dropped into Donald’s, earning a shocked look from his nephew. “Ah-ah-ah, I’ll take care of the paperwork. God knows we’d be waiting forever for the proper authorities to do it. Luckily I’m rich and Scrooge McDuck.”

A pair of arms wrapped around him at that point, and though Scrooge was used to hugs from his nephews and Webby, _this_ wasn’t something he was familiar with. He stayed still for a moment before reaching to pat Donald on the back.

This was the least he could do for his nephew after everything they’d been through.

“Oh, ah, by the way, they’re going to be here in two days time. They were kinda worried about me because of the whole shadow war thing…”

“ _Donald_!” Donald gave him a sheepish look, making Scrooge palm his face. “Ugh fine. My offer still stands. Now go call them, you lovesick fool.” With an eager nod and a mouthed thank you, Donald scrambled out of the room, leaving his uncle to press his fingers to his forehead with a sigh. The mansion was going to get noisier it seemed. Best get Bentina to prepare a room.

He stood and exited from the dining hall, wandering off to find his old partner, completely unaware of the whispered “Yes!” coming from one of the doorways.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie wake up to find Webby and Dewey gone, so he goes looking with Huey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this has gotten so many kudos and bookmarks in just a couple of days. Thank you, guys 

Louie woke up half off the bed, his upper body hanging over the edge while his feet sat somewhere in the middle, feathery hair a muss from sleeping in a pile of ducklings all night. With a small grunt he hauled himself up onto the mattress, green nightshirt riding up before he shifted it down and looked around, rubbing one eye.

The side of the bed his legs lay across was cold, despite being warm a few hours ago when he’d woken up in the middle of the night. Dewey and Webby were nowhere to be seen, but Huey was sitting up, face illuminated by the light of his phone screen as he flicked through something intently, muttering under his breath and frowning. Nerd stuff, probably. Louie reached out and nudged him with his foot, startling his older brother and making him snap his head up before he relaxed. “Oh. Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Ah shove it.” Rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from the stiff position of being off the edge of the bed half the night, Louie shifted closer, leaning to look over Huey’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been doing damage data for Uncle Scrooge,” the duckling in red explained, thumb flicking the screen up before he turned it off. “According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, one should always gather information and make sure they have enough to survive after a natural disaster…”

“That wasn’t a natural disaster though,” Louie said, draping his arm over his knee as he leaned back against the pillows that had been surrounding them through the night.

“I know I know. But she wasn’t very helpful when it came to answering my questions about how the eclipse factored into her whole revenge scheme. Technically, an eclipse happens when an astronomical object is temporarily obscured by another…”

“Wait, you actually expected her to answer those questions you threw at her while she was blasting at us?” Typical Huey.

Huey’s cheeks turned a bit red before he picked up the Guidebook where it was next to him and slipped it under his pillow. “Well, I’ve already written it in, so it’s science fact now, but I won’t take ‘it’s just magic, okaaaaay?’ as an answer.”

Louie snorted. “Nice Magica impression. By the way, where’re Dewey and Webby?” he asked, looking around as his brother shrugged.

“They’ve been long gone since before I woke up.”

“Man, I know Webby wakes up early some mornings to train with Mrs B. but she really should give her a break. I mean, she lost someone important to her…” Louie’s voice trailed off at the slight mention of Lena, wincing a bit. He then yawned and stretched. “Guess that means pancakes are off for breakfast.”

“As Junior Woodchuck Lead Sous Chef, I could make you so many more things than just pancakes, dear brother.”

“Yeah, but Mrs B’s don’t have lumps in them.” Louie slid away and off the bed as Huey yelled an indignant “hey!” at him, scrambling off the bed and making a beeline for the door with the older duckling after him, laughing. Whenever Uncle Donald had been too busy to make breakfast – late for a job or an interview – Huey had stepped in and taken care of his brothers before the babysitter got there. He knew what they liked, and it was better than the babysitter causing Louie to become fussy or Dewey to become indignant that nobody was paying attention to him. That was just how Huey was, and though he teased him for it, Louie was actually pretty grateful.

Poor or not, family was family.

The two of them stepped into the hallway after Huey playfully shoved at Louie to get out of the door, the latter stretching his arms up and behind his head with a small sigh. “Wonder if we can convince Launchpad to go get McDonald’s?”

“In a house with a full pantry, I should hope that you don’t.” The accent made them both turn around, finding Mrs Beakley just behind them with an armful of spare blankets, one hand on her hip. She looked at them disapprovingly over her spectacles, then rolled her eyes. “I left some chocolate chip pancakes in the microwave for you, Louie, and your porridge is ready to be heated up, Huey. A can of Pep and some earl grey tea are waiting too.”

“Thanks, Mrs Beakley,” Huey said, tipping his hat to her in a way that almost caused her to smile. “By the way, what’s with all the blankets? Are we expecting company?”

She pursed her beak together before sighing. “I’m afraid that’s something you should ask your Uncle Donald about. He was in the kitchen the last time I saw him. Hopefully not getting himself lost in the cupboards again.” Though her tone was chiding, it was a bit fond before she caught herself, a small flush appearing across her feathers and Mrs Beakley cleared her throat. “I’ll leave you boys to it.”

They watched her leave before Huey turned to Louie. “Was that…?”

“A bit weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Maybe the Barksian whatchamacallit left an impression on her.” Louie pulled his phone out from the pocket on his night shirt, turning his screen on and opening maps. “Yeah, okay he’s still in the kitchen.”

“Barksian Modulator, and you keep tabs on Uncle Donald?”

“I keep tabs on everyone.”

Huey frowned in confusion before he followed his younger brother, Louie’s hand pushing the swinging door open to the kitchens. Sure enough, Uncle Donald was leaning against the counter, smiling at something on his phone, before the creak of the door made him look up, nearly fumbling with it. “Boys!”

“Mornin’, Uncle Donald,” they said in unison, before the kitchen fell quiet. Louie cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. “Mrs B. said you had something to tell us?”

Donald let out a small mutter under his breath, which made Huey strain his ears to hear it before his eyes widened. That? That was Spanish. “Sit down, boys,” he said, gesturing to the table and setting their Pep and tea down as they pulled chairs out for themselves. Donald pulled Louie’s pancakes out from the microwave and put Huey’s bowl of porridge in there, setting the time as he turned back around, placing the plate in front of his youngest nephew. “It’s time I told you something.”

“This isn’t going to be a birds and the bees talk, is it? Because I already got my Junior Woodchuck badge in sex education…”

“What? Since when?!” Donald shook his head. “No, no it’s not that.” He cupped his hand over his chest, gripping something there and glancing away for a moment before looking back at his boys. “I…back when you were hatched…”

“Is this about Uncle Panchito and Uncle José?” Two heads whipped around to look at Louie, one with wide eyes and one with a completely lost look on his face. He had his fork deep in his pancakes, knife cutting a perfect triangle as he surveyed the look before shrugging. “What? You know I used to get up at 2am to pee because I have a weak bladder. I…I overheard you once. Or twice.” Louie looked down at his pancakes a little guiltily. “Okay, maybe a few times. I couldn’t understand you, but I felt…warm, for some reason, listening.”

Donald’s beak snapped shut at his nephew’s burning face, his hands using the fork to shove a layer full of pancake and chocolate chip down his throat. He smiled warmly, then let his hand unclench around the rings dangling from his neck, walking over to place his hand on Louie’s shoulder and give it a squeeze as he set Huey’s porridge down. “I think I knew,” he said, ruffling Louie’s feathery hair and earning an indignant look. “You felt warm because they helped me raise you three boys for a couple of years.”

“Ohhhh so that’s where the Spanish lullaby came from,” Huey said, realisation dawning on him. Earning looks, he shrugged. “I think until the time I was five I kept humming some kind of lullaby to myself, but I couldn’t find it in English, so I looked up possible translations. It only started making sense when I tried to earn my Junior Woodchuck badge for foreign languages…”

“You always were Panchito’s favourite,” Donald said with a chuckle, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry I kept it from you boys.”

“It’s okay.” Louie glanced up at his uncle, smiling softly. “You were hurting after mom took the Spear of Selene. I think…I think we always understood, in a way.”

“That’s surprisingly insightful of you,” Huey commented, blowing gently on his porridge before taking a spoonful into his mouth. “But Louie’s right.” He frowned, looking at Donald as well. “What happened to them?”

Donald sat down in the chair across from his boys with a heavy sigh, leaning an arm back on the backrest. “We had to part because it was hard enough keeping the houseboat afloat and you boys fed. Panchito and José went to South America, and we stayed in Duckburg.” He bit his beak before he smiled at his nephews. “But they’re coming back.”

Cutlery clattered to the plates before Louie leaned over the table, shouting. “When?!”

“Two days. I’ve already cleared it with Uncle Scrooge. And they’re staying indefinitely this time.”

“Ohhh so that’s what Mrs Beakley was doing with the sheets,” Huey said, picking his jaw back up from where it had seemed to hit the table.

“He hasn’t even told you the best news!” Webby came barreling in from the other kitchen door, her hands raised in victory with Dewey trying to hold her back. Her entrance startled all three ducks, even though Donald had half guessed they were there. “They’re _married_!”

“What? To each other?”

“And Donald!” She blanched before she corrected herself and looked at him sheepishly while his nephews stared in shock. “Uh, sorry, Mr Duck.”

Donald rubbed his face before he let out a smile. What the heck, it was going to be a good couple of days. “It’s okay. And I think we’re past that term. Call me Uncle Donald.”

It was Webby’s turn to be shocked, her tape recorder clattering to the floor before she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him as the boys stared at each other. “I’m Webby.”

“There’s one thing I don’t get, how come you two have memories of them while I don’t?” Dewey asked, frowning deeply. He felt a little bit hurt, and unsure of himself as he scuffed his foot against the kitchen floor. If Huey and Louie could recall them that clearly, why hadn’t he?

“Because I was always balancing you on my hip,” Donald said, patting Webby’s back as she nuzzled into him. “You were the fussiest, so Panchito and Zé took Huey and Louie. You wouldn’t let them hold you for some reason, you only let me.” Dewey’s frown lessened, brow raising slightly. “Maybe part of you knew I was your mother’s brother.”

He joined Webby at Donald’s front at that, arms wrapping around his adoptive sister and his uncle, and both of them soon felt smaller arms at their backs, Louie and Huey joining them. Donald hugged them tight, gently placing his chin on top of Dewey’s head as he squeezed his kids.

Soon there’d be two more to their group hug.

He couldn’t wait.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family sits on standby while Donald and Launchpad go to pick up their guests from the airport.

With all the buzz of activity in the mansion, two days sped by at the speed of sound. The pizza and Pep smell was finally out of the walls and carpet, the rooms all back to normal thanks to Mrs Beakley’s thorough cleaning and straightening of furniture. Things were finally starting to settle down after the shadow war, repairs to the money bin well on the way, as well as to the rest of the city that had been damaged in Magica’s wake.

Launchpad had driven Donald to the airport to pick up their guests while the rest of the McDuck clan made sure that the mansion was still in working order when they got back, Huey going over checklist after checklist while his brothers rolled their eyes and tried to convince him to settle down. “But we haven’t seen _Tio_ José and _Tio_ ‘Chito in eight years!” he said as Louie held him down while Dewey took his checklists, reaching out for them. “I want things to be perfect!”

“Nuh-uh. Too much checklisting is bad for you. Doctor’s orders,” Louie responded with a shake of his head, pulling back up from where he’d been holding Huey down by the wrists. His older brother twisted underneath him and he rolled off, standing and brushing off his hoodie before slipping his hands into the front pocket.

“What doctor? Since when is there a medical practitioner in this house?” The voice behind them made the triplets pause, glancing over their shoulders to see Uncle Scrooge paused in the middle of a nearby doorway, eyebrow raised.

“Don’t you mean Doctor _Who_ , Uncle Scrooge?” Dewey asked, grinning from ear to ear while his brothers groaned and Huey dragged his hat down on both sides of his head, shouting at him; “That’s not even grammatically correct!”

“I don’t get the reference,” the old duck grumbled, taking a sip of tea from the cup in his hand. He had been up to the wee hours of the morning on a conference call with the necessary authorities from São Paulo and Oaxaca gathering the paperwork necessary to welcome his nephew’s partners into the country, and it had been strangely…difficult to get them. “Shouldn’t you lads be getting ready?”

“We are ready,” Louie responded, already tapping away at his phone. “‘Sides, Uncle Donald and Launchpad are still at the airport.”

“I’m not even going to ask.” Scrooge lifted a hand to run his fingers through his ageing feathers, cane linking around his wrist as he did so before he propped it back down, leaning against it and looking at the three of them. “By the way, where’s Webbigail?”

“Updating her board last time I saw her I think,” Dewey said, tapping his fingers to the lower part of his beak. “She said she needed to clear some space now that we’ve gotten her some things from Castle McDuck.”

“Ah yes. Mummy was especially pleased that someone wanted the family album and log books.” His uncle grimaced a bit, remembering some especially embarrassing photos being in that album, but she couldn’t do much harm with them. Nothing phased Scrooge McDuck. He sighed and stretched, cricking his neck. “Welp. Time waits for no duck. Duckworth will tell me when they get back, there’s no need for you boys to stop…whatever it is that you’re doing.”

With a tip of his hat to his nephew’s, Scrooge left them to their own devices, trotting down the hall and disappearing in the way of the master bedroom. Huey stole his notepad and pencil from Dewey’s hands, earning an indignant ‘hey!’ as he tucked them under his hat, looking at his brothers. “You guys wanna go find Webby?” He was met with a “sure” and a “eh”, so the three boys went off, looking for their adopted sister.

They found her where Dewey had said she was; in her bedroom, cross legged in front of the cork board that had long served as her connection to the McDuck family when Scrooge himself was too busy and her grandmother said she shouldn’t bother him. Bits and pieces of paper were scattered around her, the slow building of a family tree in progress as she poured through the documents that Downy had given her. Many were in Scottish Gaelic, depending on how far back she looked, while the ones written in English were riddled with spelling errors and unintelligible in some parts.

Webby looked over her shoulder when she heard her door open, her shadow disappearing beneath her where it was smaller in the light. “Oh. Hey, guys.”

“Just came in to tell you it’s almost time,” Dewey said, crouching down next to her while Huey stood near the cork board and Louie took up residence on the edge of her bed. “Uncle Donald and Launchpad should be back anytime now.”

“Oh!” Webby blinked in shock and then stood up in a flash, scattering documents but unable to care less as she looked over herself. “Do I look okay? Should I change?”

“Nah, you look fine,” Louie told her, looking up briefly from his phone where he was keeping an eye on their Uncle’s location. At her unsure look, he lowered his phone, gesturing with the hand holding it. “Seriously. I don’t think Uncle Zé and Uncle ‘Chito are going to care either way.” Unlike Huey, he deferred from using the Spanish term for Uncle.

“I know, but I want to make a good first impression,” she whined, pouting a bit before looking at Huey, noticing the way she was staring at her chalk board. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got Uncle Feathry and Uncle Gladstone around the wrong way,” he said, reaching to fix it for her. It was then that he noticed she still had herself off to the side, and that Lena’s photo was missing. Looking at her out the corner of his eye with a bit of concern, Huey untacked her photo from where it was and placed it up next to the one of the three of them that she’d taken the first day. “There. That’s better.”

Webby flushed deeply, looking down at her feet. “I…I wasn’t sure if it was okay…”

“Webby, Uncle Donald told you to call him Uncle. You’re practically family at this point,” Dewey pointed out, reaching to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it. “You’re our family. Anyone who says otherwise is dumb.” She beamed at him, opening her beak to speak before Louie interrupted her, leaping from the bed.

“Guys, they’re on the move.”

It was time to get going.

—————————

A few miles outside of the city at Duckburg International, Donald paced around in the arrivals area, arms crossed behind his back. He and Launchpad had been there for an hour now, tracking the flight progress on his phone, and he’d finally conceded to the pilot’s offer to grab them both a burrito.

He was worried, of course he was. They hadn’t seen each other in reality for eight years, and he clutched his hat in his hands, nearly tearing it apart with anxiety. What if they decided they didn’t like him? What if they didn’t like the way he’d raised the boys? What if Panchito and José had found someone else in Brazil, someone closer to home, and they were simply coming to inform him? Donald’s face was flushed with stress, and when he felt a tap on his shoulder he whirled around, ready to yell at whoever had done it, before he noticed it was Launchpad, holding out a foil wrapped burrito to him.

The pilot blinked before giving him a sheepish smile, gesturing for him to take the burrito from his hand. “Here you go, buddy. Y’better eat up or your friends will think Mr McD’s not feedin’ ya.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” He didn’t bother correcting him that Panchito and José were more than just his friends, having done so several times on the ride over before giving up completely. Instead, Donald took the food from him and placed his hat back on his head, sitting down in the seats near where they stood. He didn’t unwrap it, though, looking down at his reflection in the foil while Launchpad happily dug into his, pausing around his first mouthful and looking at the smaller duck.

“What’s wrong? Did I get you the wrong filling?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s not that.” Donald fingered the corners of the wrapper, his shoulders sagging. “I’m just…nervous.”

“Oh yeah. You haven’t seen your buddies in a while, huh?” Launchpad took another bite of his food, hunched over in his seat due to his size. Noticing the look on Donald’s face, he paused, tapping the burrito to his chin in actual thought. “Y’know, I was like that when we went to Macaw when yer cousin Gladstone called. I hadn’t seen an old girlfriend for a while, so I thought I’d drop by since she was having trouble with the local crime mob.” He paused again, tilting his head. “I wasn’t sure if she’d accept my help or not. We kind of ended on the wrong foot. But I still wanted to help her.”

Donald raised an eyebrow, unwrapping his burrito at last. That explained why Launchpad had come back to the Sunchaser in traditional Macaw armour pierced with arrows.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, even if you haven’t seen someone for a long time, they’re still connected to you.” There was a pause before he spoke again, clapping Donald on the shoulder. “Heck, I think you’re pretty great.”

“Would you look at this, _meu amor_. We’re not even in the country five minutes and he’s already attracted attention from someone else.”

“ _Sí_. And we came alllll this way too.”

Donald jerked his head up from where Launchpad had nearly pushed him off his seat from the shoulder slap, staring and feeling like he needed to kick himself when he saw them. Sure, he’d spoken to them over phone and video but this was the first time he’d seen Panchito and José in person in…well, forever. The two of them held onto their suitcase with a bit of amusement written across their faces, which only doubled when he shoved his burrito at Launchpad and leapt up from his seat, practically jumping into two sets of arms that grabbed onto him and peppered his neck and cheeks with kisses.

He buried his face in their shoulders, red at the neck and not caring any less. Any anxiety from before has disappeared into the warmth he was feeling from them, hugging and holding on tight as they grinned at each other over his head.

They were home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald takes the Caballeros back to McDuck Manor.

It was a good thing that Launchpad had closed the barrier that separated the driver’s compartment to the back seat of the limousine. The trio clambered in, Donald in the middle while the other two took up residence on either side of him, hands twined and not letting go.

Panchito and José were leaning particularly close, allowing Donald to get a good look at his husbands. They hadn’t changed much in the last eight years, he mused to himself as they nuzzled him, beaks in both sides of his neck. Panchito had just gotten taller, half curled up on the back seat with one long leg thrown up on Donald’s, while José, on the other hand, stroked the palm of his with his thumb, chest to Donald’s shoulder. His fingers curled in the rooster’s jacket, returning the nuzzle. They were here, practically straddling his lap, the warmth from their bodies enveloping him and causing a pleasant hum to throb under his skin.

“I missed you,” he murmured, pressing his beak into José’s shoulder.

“I missed you too, _meu amor_ ,” was the response, a kiss being dropped into the crook of his neck. “We both did.”

“Mmmhmm.” Panchito’s voice was a low purr, nose deep in Donald’s white feathers at the back of his head, his arms wrapping around the duck’s waist. “Never letting you go again, _querido_.”

Hands wandered but didn’t stray, the simple yet undeniable fact that they had been apart for too long keeping them there. Donald was relaxed for, perhaps, the first time in a long time. Fingers brushed through his feathers, beaks pressed gently and inhaled as though mapping each other’s scent. José kissed him once or twice, the simple motion sending a tingle down his spine before he heard a murmured “ _cerdo, déjame_ …” and it was Panchito instead, hand cupping his chin to tilt his head back.

Donald inhale sharply as the kiss broke, staring up at warm eyes before he felt a hand on his hip that made him look at the other Caballero, face flushed at the way José sat between his knees. “Not now,” he muttered, fingers reaching back to take hold of the other side of Panchito’s jacket nonetheless. Long fingered hands slid down the curve of his backside, a mischievous look shared that let Donald know they weren’t going to listen. “Later.”

“Are you really going to tell us later when we’ve been waiting eight years, _meu amor_?” José asked incredulously and pretending to look offended, picking up Donald’s hand and turning it around to kiss his wrist. “After everything that you have told us?” The same hand was pressed against his face, the duck huffing.

“Not in Uncle Scrooge’s limo and definitely not before you see the boys.”

Panchito sighed and relented, pulling his wandering hands away and holding them up. “ _Bien, bien_. We’re sorry, _amor_ , it’s just been a long time, can you blame us?”

“Believe me, as much as I’d love to, Uncle Scrooge would kill me,” Donald said, shifting so that he could sit up as José pulled back, keeping their hands together as the parrot hummed, adjusting his coat.

“Whatever you say, _os namorado_.”

Donald narrowed his eyes playfully, huffing. “Now you’re just trying to make me flustered.”

“ _Sím_ , but you enjoy it, no?” José returned cheekily, earning a chuckle from their other partner.

“Zé, we don’t want him too red faced in front of the kids. They might get the wrong idea.”

“And besides that, Huey and Webby apparently know how to speak Spanish and Portuguese, so we’re going to have to tone it down on the petnames,” Donald said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the plush seat. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” The other two Caballeros turned to sit properly as well, the car taking a turn in the direction of the manor.

“So you’re back on good terms with your _Tío_?” Panchito asked, leaning shoulder to shoulder with Donald so that he could take José’s hand across the duck’s lap. He then paused, counting on his fingers. “Huey, Dewey, Louie…you didn’t take in another egg while we were gone, did you, _cariño_?l

“What?” Donald shook his head. “No, she’s my uncle’s housekeeper’s granddaughter. We let her call us Uncle though.”

“Ahh, a little _menina_ then,” José said, bringing his other arm to rest it over his legs. “How adorable.” He frowned. “But I thought we hated your uncle for what happened to Della?”

He sighed, looking down at his lap where their hands were curved over his, squeezing their fingers. “I did. I did for a long time, but…it was so hard holding onto all that anger. Then, when Magica appeared, it just…” Donald’s shoulders sagged a bit as they both wrapped an arm around him. “Our family has been apart too long. I might not have forgiven him completely but we’ve started.”

“We’re here now, Donaldo.” Panchito pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re not leaving you again.”

“ _Sím_. Your uncle will need to pry you from our cold, dead fingers.”

Donald coughed. “Don’t say that…”

The car came to a halt, the window barrier coming down just slightly so that Launchpad could talk to them. “We’re here, guys.”

Donald inhaled, then sighed and raised his hands. “Okay, rules. Mrs B.’s in charge of house rules so I’ll defer to her on those but no smoking around the kids, Zé, and no screaming at the crack of dawn, Panchi. We like our sleep ins when we can get them.”

“But it’s in my blood,” Panchito whined, leaning against him heavily and resting his chin on Donald’s head while José shrugged. “I only stress smoke now. It’s bad for the lungs if I do it too much.” With a smile at the both of them and a squeeze of their hands, Donald got up and reached to open the door, stepping out first and greeted by the sight of the family standing at the bottom of the front stairs.

Scrooge looked tired as hell, hand wrapped around his cane and leaning against it while the kids stood in front of him, Mrs Beakley to his left with her hand on Webby’s shoulder. Huey had his hat in his hands, twisting it in a way that Donald was reminded of doing himself when anxious, his brow frowning a bit as he was hit with concern for his eldest nephew. Dewey had his arms crossed, appearing to be a bit unsure of himself even after Donald had reassured him repeatedly over the last couple of days that Panchito and José had adored him as much as they had Huey and Louie. Speaking of the youngest, he was surprisingly not on his phone, instead looking on with his interest piqued and curiosity on his face. Feeling his partners come closer behind him, he ran a hand over his face, then cleared his throat, gesturing to them.

“Uncle Scrooge, Mrs Beakley, Webby, this is José Carioca and Panchito Gonzalez, my partners. Panchi, Zé, this is my uncle, his housekeeper and her granddaughter. And you remember the boys.”

“You only sent us like a million photos while they were growing up,” Panchito said with a nudge at Donald’s shoulder, teasing him with a wink and earning a flushed beak in return.

“Even the dorky ones?” Louie was the one who asked, cringing a bit. Damnit, there went his reputation.

“Especially the dorky ones, _meu garoto_ ,” José teased gently, then turned his attention to Webby. “So you are the _mochina_ that Donal’ has told us about.”

“Hi, I’m Webby,” she said, flushing at the cheeks and ducking her head shyly, twirling some of her hair around her fingers. “ _Bem vindo a nossa casa_ ,” she then added hastily, picking her skirt at the sides and curtsying.

“Aww, she’s so cute,” Panchito cooed, beaming at Mrs Beakley. “You must be one proud grandma.”

“I am,” she replied, smiling a bit smugly. There was no doubt that Mrs Beakley was definitely proud of her granddaughter, though she didn’t appear to fall for their charms. Instead, she glanced out the corner of her eye to where José seemed to be inspecting Webby’s shadow, earning a smile from him when he seemed to be caught. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about it, clearing her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, the housekeeping won’t do itself. Welcome back to America, gentlemen, and to Duckburg.”

Panchito waved at her back while José glanced out the corner of his eye back to Webby’s shadow. He could have sworn that it took on a different appearance to its owner, and with what Donald had told them of the shadow war, it sent a small ripple of tension up his spine. Then again, he _had_ just flown several hours with an excitable Panchito. Perhaps he was tired.

“Aye, and I best be getting to the bin to oversee repairs,” Donald’s uncle said, tipping his hat to them. “Feel free to settle in at your leisure. We can talk more at dinner.”

“Bye, Uncle Scrooge,” the kids called as he ambled over to the limo.

Everyone watched as Launchpad drove off, then Donald turned to his nephews and niece, leaning down next to near Huey who was still clutching his hat. He looked at the other two Caballeros, raising an eyebrow. “You two ready to take on four kids?”

“I think we can handle them,” Panchito said with a grin and a look at José, who nodded his sentiment. He took his sombrero off, looked at it for a bit, then placed it on Huey’s head, smirking at the way it flopped over the duckling’s face, making Dewey and Louie laugh. “Eh, he’ll grow into it.”

“Can we show them around, Uncle Donald?” Dewey asked, bouncing back and forth on his heel and toe.

“It’s up to them.” Donald tilted his head at his partners. “You guys wanna sleep or check out the estate?”

“I am sure we can stave off sleep for a bit longer.”

Watching with amusement as Webby took José by the hand at that, joined by Louie, and Huey and Dewey grabbed Panchito’s hand, he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as the kids lead them into the mansion, already beginning to babble excitedly.

The mansion was just going to get livelier it seemed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald wakes up content, and Webby makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beginning is sliiightly nsfw but I’m going to change the rating anyway just in case 

Donald woke up surrounded by warmth and completely relaxed for the first time in years.

His partners had pulled him into bed with them after the grand tour of the McDuck estate, eager to catch up on eight years of missed connection. His body still tingled with the sensation of their fingers running through his feathers, whispered murmurs pressed into his wrist and neck and face. The hands curved around his waist and hips were real and not pressed against a computer screen. He sighed, burying his beak in the feathers on José’s head, feeling Panchito nuzzle his neck from behind.

The sunset peeking in through the crack in the curtains informed him of the time, used to reading the sky after years at sea in the navy, yet Donald couldn’t find it in himself to care. The kids would understand if they wanted a few extra minutes before dinner, he reasoned with himself as he draped his arm further around José’s waist, his tail wagging a little.

“ _Lindo_ ,” was the murmur into his neck as he felt Panchito’s chest rumble behind him, the rooster stirring from his sleep as his hands slid down, cupping José’s around his hips and threading their fingers. It was so easy to drop back into old habits, to lose himself in the pleasant thrum. Donald pushed his head back, huffing. “Who’re you calling cute?”

“You, _amor_.” The voice let him know that José was waking up, one eye opening as he smirked up at him. A beak nuzzled into his chest, a small sigh of contentment leaving the parrot. “What’s the time?”

“Nearly six,” Donald said, humming as Panchito nipped at his shoulder playfully, tilting his head against the pillow. “We’ve got an hour before dinner.”

“Enough time to make up for lost hours,” José purred, nudging Panchito’s hand away from his and motioning with it in a circle. With a grunt and very nearly no effort, the rooster rolled onto his back, taking his two slighter lovers with him and causing Donald to let out a quack of alarm. “Is this later enough?”

Donald huffed, his beak turning a bright shade of red as his partners shared a mischievous look. Not hearing a no, José pressed a kiss to his collarbone, fingers wandering through the feathers around his hips. The pressure against his back and on his front was pleasant, their hands touching places known from pure memory. “Zé,” he murmured, tilting his head back against Panchito’s shoulder, hips lifting automatically.

“Easy,” Panchito hummed, fingers combing through Donald’s head-feathers, cradling the duck’s body against his own as José got to work. He distracted their lover from being too overstimulated, murmuring into his ear as Donald squirmed in their hold, making the cutest noises as hands smoothed out over his chest. The tips of Donald’s feet curled, beak becoming a full faced flush as he shuddered, head throwing back as he let out a noise.

José pulled himself up from between their legs, crossing his arms over Donald’s stomach and looking at him with sly eyes. “We can work on that,” he said teasingly, propping his head up on his hands. “It has been a few years after all, _meu amor_.”

Donald pressed a hand to his beak in a bit of embarrassment, sliding it down as he sighed, grumbling and tilting his head to the side. “I can’t say I didn’t miss that,” he replied, cheeks as red as a robin’s chest.

“Better than over the internet, eh?” Panchito asked, pressing a kiss to the back of Donald’s neck. “We don’t have to do anything else right now.”

“Good. I don’t think I could face everyone at dinner after it,” the duck groaned, earning chuckles from the other two Caballeros. José shifted off from his place on top, allowing Donald and Panchito to sit up and the covers of the bed dropping down around their ankles, the rooster shaking his head so his feathers didn’t look mussed. Regretfully leaving the warmth, the three of them got up, throwing on clothing and Donald stretching, cricking his shoulders. “Mrs B should be setting up,” he said, opening the door and holding it for José and Panchito.

“Mmnh, I needed that nap more than I thought,” José muttered with a stretch of his own, tail feathers wriggling as he relaxed, linking arms with his partners. “I haven’t slept in a bed that nice in…well, a long time, my friends. I don’t think I’d be able to go back.”

“Hey, our tent’s not that bad,” Panchito said, pouting a little. “You said you liked the blow up mattress.”

“Not when it deflates in the middle of the night, _meu amor_.”

Donald rolled his eyes as he lead them down the hallway, tugging his casual flannel on a bit better even as he smiled softly to himself. It was nice having them around, he admitted to himself, before the sound of children shouting and something hitting his backside made him squawk, jumping and turning around to see the kids come charging down the hall. The Caballeros pressed themselves against the walls as the boys ran from Webby, screaming at the top of their lungs and clutching their Nerf guns.

“Get back here, you cowards! You’ll pay for what you did to my men!”

“She’s very lively, no?” Panchito asked, chuckling to himself as Donald pulled the pretend bullet from his tail feathers.

Webby came to a halt between the three, looking a little embarrassed before she bowed. “Sorry if we woke you,” she said, lifting her infrared goggles from her eyes and beaming at them. “We were keeping away from your room as much as possible but the guys ran down here so I had to follow.”

“We appreciate it,” José replied, inclining his head. They had a bit of catching up to do after all, away from children’s eyes and ears. “But don’t let us stop you from avenging your men.”

“It’s almost time for dinner anyway.” Webby turned her head to look at the grandfather clock on the wall, tail wriggling in excitement still before she returned her attention to the three Caballeros. “We can settle it later.” She swung the Nerf gun around on her finger, mimicking blowing smoke from it and placed it in a toy holster on her hip.

“Ah, a _niña_ after my own heart,” Panchito said, placing a hand against his chest.

“Can I ask you guys something?” She got their attention with that, making them look at each other before shrugging and nodding. Webby took her goggles off her head, careful not to knock her hair bow off as she did so, fingers curling around it. “What happened to Felldrake? A book said that he’d disappeared after his staff was broken in the final battle, but surely that can’t be all there is to it.”

“In truth, we do not know,” the parrot told her, shaking his head and leaning against a dresser in the hallway. “If anything has happened, we haven’t heard from the scoundrel in fifteen years.”

“Xandra didn’t sense anything,” Donald said, shrugging before he placed his hands on his hips. “She just said our job was done.”

“Then…where is she?”

“Last we knew, she was somewhere in the Goblin Kingdom researching ways to undo Felldrake’s spell on her book,” Panchito explained, tilting his head and tapping his chin. “Haven’t heard from her since.”

Webby’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to say something, before José beat her to the punch. “Now let me ask you something, my dear. Have you noticed your shadow is rather…odd, at times?”

She blinked, turning her head to find it before looking back at him and shaking it. “It always seems normal to me.” She frowned, biting her beak. “You don’t think Magica’s back, do you?”

There was a look from Donald that made him hesitate before José shook his head as well, waving his hand. “Ah, well, my mistake. It could easily be a trick of the light. After all, shadows grow depending on light being blocked by an object.”

Webby paused, then lowered her head, tapping her fingers together. “It’s okay. I won’t tell Uncle Scrooge that you can do magic.” At the flabbergasted look on the three Caballeros’ faces, she held up her hands. “I promise! I’m not a Junior Woodchuck like Huey but you can trust me, I…”

“My dear girl.” José squatted so that he could talk to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and giving her an appreciative smile. “I believe you. But if you would let me…?” She hesitated before she nodded, and he stood and stepped back, the girl gesturing them into a spare room and closing the door. “Now, I’m not exactly an expert.” He made a motion for Panchito to turn a nearby light on, nodding for Donald to close the curtain of the window closest to them, rolling up his sleeves. “And my brand might be different and rusty, but there is a possibility that I could…”

She watched, not even feeling slightly nervous as shadows shifted around them. The shadow war had been a few days ago now, but Webby was a brave girl, and she was curious. Her spine tingled as her shadow ripples into a different shape, her heart clenching as she gasped softly as José’s magic pulled it into being. She knew that shadow anywhere, pressing her hand against the wall and feeling cold plaster. “L-Lena?”

“What?” Donald picked his jaw up off the floor, Panchito and José looking at him in confusion before he began explaining to them, Webby too shell shocked to as she touched the hand connected to hers by light. “Her friend…I told you about her, didn’t I? She saved Webby from Magica. It turned out she was a shadow spy sent to keep an eye on Uncle Scrooge and try to get his lucky dime, but she was on our side in the end.”

Panchito made a noise that sounded vaguely like the word “telenovela”, cupping his hands around his beak as José grimaced, looking at the duckling trying not to cry before he smacked the rooster on the shoulder, earning an indignant look and pout from his partner. “This isn’t a telenovela,” he said, closing the distance to Webby and leaning down, drawing her attention away from the shadow that somehow seemed to look sad. “My friend, if you would let me, I would like to try and find a way to bring your _amigo_ back.”

Webby looked at him in shock now, her eyes widening. “You can bring Lena back?”

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I can try.”

The duckling flung herself at him, making José fall back in surprise before he placed a hand on the middle of her back, looking at the girl’s inhabited shadow as she tearfully said “yes”. The shadow girl seemed to smile at him, though he could tell it was a resigned smile. José patted Webby on the back then stood them back up, placing his hand on her shoulder as she pulled back, wiping her eyes. “It’s okay if you can’t,” she finally said after a good minute, containing herself as she turned, placing her hand against the wall and receiving the same touch in return. “Just knowing that she’s here and okay…that’s enough for me.” Webby paused, then looked at the three of them. “But we can’t tell Uncle Scrooge, he’ll flip.”

“Then it’s a secret,” Donald said, while Panchito replied “Blood pact!”, receiving an excited gasp from Webby.

“No blood pacts!”

“Awww.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huey and Dewey make some discoveries.

It was another few days before the boys noticed things were…off.

Huey was the one who took notice first, of course. Ever the observant Junior Woodchuck, he took notice of when things got quiet, _Tío_ José seemed to slip away with Webby while Panchito and Donald played dumb, distracting him and his brothers with stories about their time facing Lord Felldrake at every turn. It never occurred to him before, but they both shared looks with each other during it, one knowing, and the other unsure.

He pretended to write down notes about the grandiose tales that their uncles shared, and yet he was jotting down the times that José and Webby disappeared out of the room. Dewey looked over his shoulder once, beak scrunching up and mouthing “what the heck?” at him. Huey shook his head, tilting it towards the clock in the room as a way of saying “later”.

Once their uncles were satisfied that they seemed to be thoroughly entertained, they were sent off to bed, Huey placing his notebook and pencil under his hat and gestured for his brothers to follow him. They went down the hall, until they arrived in front of their bedroom door, when he turned to address Dewey and Louie. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re telling me, you’re standing right there when bed is in there,” Louie responded, hands in his hoodie pocket as he scowled a bit at his older brother. He was dead tired, bags under his eyes from his sleeping habits and the late nights that their three uncles had been keeping them up for.

“We said no more secrets,” Dewey added, crossing his arms as he waited for Huey to fetch his notepad again, half expecting him to turn to his own recounting of the Tales of the Three Caballeros (as Uncle Panchito had been calling them), but instead looking a bit surprised when he flipped to what looked like a time table, complete with dates.

“Which is what I’m trying to get at. You ever notice that Webby’s never there when we finish up?”

“Knowing her, she probably read a book about them,” Louie said with a shrug, reaching to open their bedroom door with a hand.

“You think they’re all up to something?” Dewey took the notepad from Huey, running his finger along the numbers, realising they were times. “There’s no way they could coordinate something like that. I mean…it’s Uncle Donald.”

“Well, he did coordinate the attack during the shadow war,” the duckling in red said with a roll of his eyes, taking his notepad back. “And Webby did mention something about there being a book about them, but she wouldn’t show it to me. But something’s definitely up. I wonder if anyone else has noticed…”

A piece of paper seemed to poof out of nowhere, floating down between the brothers. Dewey snatched it out of the air, lifting it to his face to read in the dim light of the hallway. “ _Check the library_ ,” he read, turning it around to show the other two. “It’s in Duckworth’s handwriting.”

“You know, it’s both handy _and_ annoying having a ghost for a butler,” Louie grumbled, to which he shivered a bit, something curling up his spine and he turned his head, swiping at the air. “Hey! I said what I said!”

“Thanks, Duckworth,” Huey said cheerfully, taking the note from Dewey and folding the note up, tucking it under his hat with the notebook. There was a chuckle that pierced the air before the cold vanished and they were left to themselves in the dimly lit hallway. Turning on his heel, he began heading off into the direction of the library, his brothers looking after him incredulously.

“You comin, Lou?”

“Meh. I’m gonna hit the hay. Tell me everything later?”

“Sure. Sleep well.” Dewey watched Louie slip into the bedroom before he turned to follow Huey, who was already halfway down the hallway with a spring in his step. Raising an eyebrow, Huey led his brother down the hall, turning the direct way to the library.

“You don’t think he’s jealous that Webby’s been spending time with _Tío_ José or vice versa, do you?” he asked Dewey, a bit of concern flicking across his face. They both knew how sensitive Louie was about things like that, and the other duckling shook his head.

“He’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Dewey said, lifting his arms to cross them behind his head as they ambled along. “You know Lou.”

Huey frowned before he dropped the subject, instead looking up to check out the doors that they passed. Each had their own label, since Scrooge had long learned that putting up signs would likely keep curious children out of places where they shouldn’t be. Ever since the shadow war, he’d taken extra care in making sure his kin were safe from harm, which was a bit annoying but at the same time, kinda sweet for a grouchy old man, Huey mused, letting out an exclamation when he found the right door. “Here we go.”

“Uhh, Hue?” Dewey tapped his shoulder and pointed down to the crack under the door, where shadows slithered about. Both brothers cringed, remembering the attack a week or so ago now, and looked at each other, nodding grimly before pressing their hands to the door. “On three?”

“You know it. One.”

“Two.”

Pushing hard, they opened the door, stumbling into the room and staring at the sight presented to them. The room was dimly lit, lamps low and spreading shadows over the walls, but it was the blue glow in particular that garnered their attention, coming from the friendship bracelet that Webby had neglected to take off ever since the battle. The shadow behind her stretched slightly taller on the wall, glowing a similar colour and in a familiar shape. The glow dissipated slightly when both duck and parrot realised they’d been discovered, José pulling his hands back from where they’d been outstretched.

“Eh? _Meus garoto_?!”

Before Huey and Dewey could do anything like spring at him, or push Webby away like they wanted, there was a hand on each of their shoulders, and they turned to find Donald behind them with a deep frown, his fingers tight around his grip like something they had rarely experienced. “I thought I told you to go to bed,” he said, a slight sound of annoyance in his raspy voice as Panchito popped up behind him, the rooster looking equally surprised, but moving past them to step into the room and go over to José and Webby, scooping the parrot into a hug.

Donald pushed his boys into the room and shut the door behind them, hands on his hips now. “Where’s Louie?”

“Sleeping, but we can explain,” Dewey responded, beginning to feel a little nervous as he looked back and forth between his uncle and the other three. “Huey…uh, you wanna take this one?”

The older brother sighed, running his hand down his beak and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “I started noticing that _Tio_ José and Webby were absent from about eight pm onwards, so I started writing down the times that they’d been gone.” Donald pressed a hand to his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded vaguely like “damn Junior Woodchucks”, and his nephew shrugged. “Sure I guess, but at least my theory was right?”

Webby wrapped her arms around herself, her shadow doing something similar or at least trying to lean against her in a way that seemed like a hug. “I-I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I wanted...when _Senhor_ José said he could possibly bring Lena back, I…my first thought was about myself. I should’ve told you guys.”

“I told you, call me _Tío_. _Senhor_ makes me sound old,” José said with a bit of a laugh, before he turned towards the boys, gesturing for Donald to bring them closer. “It’s okay, _meus garoto_ , I would be suspicious of me too after what happened before our arrival.” The parrot sighed and flopped against one of the lounge suites housed in the library, taking out a cigar and turning to Panchito for a light, despite the look on Donald’s face at the fact that he was breaking one of the rules. He inhaled deeply, then sighed it out, pressing his hand to his forehead while the rooster cuddled up to him.

Dewey frowned, then stepped closer to Webby and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, shaking her. “Hey, we just wish you would’ve come to us too. We’re a family.”

“I know but…I didn’t want to make you think any less of me or _Tío_ José for using magic to try to bring Lena back,” she said, curling in on herself. “We only discovered a few days ago that she was in my shadow somehow. I…I guess I didn’t want to get your hopes up as well as mine.”

“My magic is…it’s not as strong as that _bruxa_ ’s,” José admitted sourly as Donald joined the other two Caballeros on the couch, leaning against the arm and watching his kids with some concern, Huey walking over to join Dewey and Webby, hugging her close. “It’s different – ah, what’s the word? – different brand. And with your uncle and his distaste for it, we figured it was best if we kept it on the, as you Americans say, “down low”, for now.”

Huey turned, looking at the Lena shadow behind Webby, who tilted its head at him just as curiously. “She seems a little more solid than most shadows,” he said with a hum of interest in his voice, returning his attention to the adults. “How does it work? You don’t seem to rely on the full moon or an amulet like Magica does.”

José inhaled deeply on the next puff of his cigar, looking at Donald for confirmation and receiving a nod as he exhaled, leaning against Panchito and the couch, tapping his fingers on Donald’s knee. “It is…well, it’s more associated with shape shifting if anything. I can shift my size with ease, make certain parts appear larger or smaller, manipulate other people’s bodies the same way…is very different from shadow magic like this _bruxa_ seems to use, _entende_.”

Noticing that Huey had the Junior Woodchuck guidebook out and was writing all this information down, Dewey nudged the older triplet, gaining his attention and earning a flush of the cheeks when he realised what he was doing, placing his guidebook back under his hat. “Well, you should’ve told us,” he said after glancing away from Huey, placing a hand on his hip as he kept the other arm around Webby, who seemed to have regained some composure as the shadow behind her slipped its hand through hers. “There could be something about Magica’s kind of magic in the archives.”

“If Ms Quackfaster would’ve even let us in,” Webby said, pursing her beak and returning the squeeze the shadow hand gave her. “After Louie conned the pieces of the photograph with Scrooge and your mom at the Spear, she probably won’t let us near the bookshelves again.”

“In any case,” Donald interrupted, shifting off the couch arm and away from José’s hand, earning a pout. “It’s time you three went to bed. We can continue this tomorrow, with Louie.” Shaking his head at their groans, he squatted down in front of them, a small smile crossing his beak. “I’m sorry we kept this from you, but we were trying to keep Uncle Scrooge from finding out. The less people that knew, the better. We would have told you eventually…”

Dewey inhaled and sighed, pulling his arm away from Webby and curling in on himself a little. “I know. I just…after the Spear of Selene I wanted there to be no secrets.”

“And there won’t be. Like I said, we’ll bring the three of you up to speed tomorrow.” Donald stood properly, cricking his neck and placing his hands against his boys’ backs, turning his head to look at his partners. “You two should go to bed too. Especially you, Zé, you look like you’re about to fall asleep in Panch’s lap.”

“Pfft. I’ll just carry him,” Panchito said, gently nudging José where he seemed to be nodding off. Wrapping his arms around the weak parrot, he stood, cradling him and looking at Donald. “See you back at the room?” He got a nod and wished the kids goodnight, exiting the room with José in his hold.

“I promise, no more secrets,” Donald said after they left, pressing kisses to the three kid’s foreheads. “Now off to bed before I get mad.”

“You’re not mad yet,” Huey replied, before a yawn exited him and he covered his mouth, glancing out the corner of his eye at his brother and honorary sister, who smirked at him.

“No, but I will be if you don’t get your butts out of here, you palookas.”

“Fine fine, we’re going.” Dewey and Huey each took hold of Webby either by the arm or the hand, leading her out of the room as they were followed by Lena’s shadow, Donald watching after them and shaking his head before he turned out the lights, leaving the library and heading to the room he shared with his partners.

Panchito was tucking José in despite a little protesting from their smaller lover, the cigar being put out in the ash tray on the nightstand. He turned his head when he saw Donald out the corner of his eye, smiling gently. “Kids off to bed?”

“Hopefully,” the duck groused, stretching his arms over his head as he shut the door. “If they hadn’t stopped him when they did, I would’ve. Zé’s been running himself ragged trying to bring Lena back.”

Panchito hummed, though he did frown slightly, brushing the back of his hand along José’s forehead and receiving a murmur in response. “I hope he’s not getting sick,” he murmured, shifting off the bed and beginning to divest himself of his jacket before Donald stopped him, closing the distance between them to kiss his chin. “Donaldo?” he asked softly, feeling his slighter lover press his forehead against his chest and look down.

“‘M just tired.”

Panchito blinked before he laughed softly, tugging at the tie of the sailor suit Donald wore. “I think we should all get to bed. I’d suggest otherwise, but we can’t disturb Zé.”

Donald hummed, hearing a weak protest from the bed, where José had turned and was now pressed face first against the pillows. He indulged himself by tilting his head, kissing Panchito. “You’re right. We can try again tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

They’d try again and again. José would probably try until he ran himself into a fever, but they would be there to stop him from doing that. After all, they were the Three Caballeros. Panchito had spent too long being part of a pair rather than a trio to miss that again.


	9. Chapter 9A

They caught Louie up to speed the next morning after breakfast.

The youngest triplet looked a little disgruntled at not being told, like his brothers had last night, but shrugged it off, hands relaxed in his hoodie pocket as he leaned against the couch he shared with his siblings. “You were cornered and couldn’t tell us, I get it.” Donald frowned slightly at his dismissive attitude, making a note to nudge José to speak with him later as the parrot gave a small sigh.

“I am sorry, _meu garoto_ ,” he said, leaning forward and draping his arms across his knees, running his fingers through his feathers. “I’ve never been…entirely comfortable with my magic, especially back when I was as young as you are now.”

“I’m sorry for asking so much from you, _Tio_ ,” Webby said, picking at the hem of her skirt with Dewey’s arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. “Maybe we can take a break for a few days, so you can enjoy being back in Duckburg with Donald.”

“Yeah, maybe we can look around Lena’s old haunt to see if we can find anything that’ll help her,” Huey suggested, looking to Webby’s shadow and receiving a shrug and shake of the head. “It’s worth a shot, anyway.”

“Hey yeah, that could work,” Dewey agreed, nodding his head as the three adults looked at each other a bit dubiously. “In the meantime, I think it’s high time Uncle Donald went on a daaaaaateeee.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning an ‘eww’ from his brothers and a screwed up beak from a Webby.

“Well, it could be nice,” Panchito said, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward from where he was positioned against the arm of the couch Donald and José were sitting on. He looked at his two partners, who in turn glanced at each other. “Duckburg has probably changed since the last time we were here.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Donald replied. His cheeks were flushed red at the mere suggestion of a date, rubbing the feathers at the back of his neck. Getting out of the mansion after the last few days would be a good thing. He then frowned at the kids. “As long as you’re careful, and text me when you get home.” They nodded, and he tilted his head. “Then you can go.”

“Perhaps we could go to Quackmore and drop by the old Institute,” José suggested as the three Caballeros got up, Panchito stretching his arms overhead as the parrot turned to Donald. “How _is_ it going over there, anyway? You never say anything about it.”

“Daisy keeps me updated,” the duck said with a shrug, making the boys blanch a bit at the mention of her. They’d heard horror stories about Daisy’s infamous high standards, but this? This was new. Webby had already stolen Huey’s notepad from under his hat and was writing down notes. “She passed down ownership to April when she was old enough to take it on, since May and June joined the army and airforce. Last I heard, she was still in charge.”

“April? As in _April Duck_? The author of the _Legend of the Three Caballeros_?!” Webby was clutching Huey’s notebook so hard that he reached to take it off her just so that she wouldn’t tear the pages. “Oh oh! If you go, could you get my copy signed?! I know it’s a little torn at the corners by now, but…”

Panchito laughed with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you go get it, I’m sure we could try.” He looked at Donald with a raised eyebrow. “April wouldn’t mind one, surely.”

“Alright, alright. Go get your things, and meet us in the foyer in half an hour,” Donald said to the kids, dismissing them with a wave of his hands. “Huey, don’t forget provisions.”

“I already have a list in mind, Uncle Donald,” the oldest triplet replied as they got off the couch and ran from the room, talking excitedly to each other. The Caballeros watched them go, then turned to go to their own room, Donald grumbling slightly under his breath before two arms wound themselves around his waist and his partners came closer. Their first date in a long time, while not quite as epic as the first, was going to be something to remember.

———————————

The journey to the seaside was one taken by bus rather than on foot, and even though the bus driver remembered them from that trip to Funso’s, Huey had promised her that Webby would be sensible this time around. The kids left the bus with a chatter, the oldest triplet carrying a backpack with the provisions that he had promised Donald he’d take, and their adopted sister last in line, her friendship bracelet glowing a light blue.

The old amphitheatre was a quick journey by canoe, which they got from a rent shack owned by someone the boys knew. She sent them on their way with a warning that she’d seen someone suspicious hanging around the amphitheater, and Dewey and Webby stopped rowing when Huey gave them the signal to do so.

“We need to be careful,” he said, straightening his cap with a frown. “The Beagle Boys or any other of Duckburg’s gangs could’ve moved in since we were here last.”

“Or Magica,” Louie added, making the other three kids shiver. “She was Lena’s _shadow_ for fifteen years, she might’ve decided to move right on in with her powers gone.”

“We took her down with distractions last time,” Webby said, thumb rubbing over her friendship bracelet with worry. It glowed a comforting blue, blinking in the shadows of the inlet. “Lena doesn’t think that Magica would try, she was kind of disgusted with her living conditions.”

“You’ve been communicating with Lena in Morse?” Huey asked curiously, leaning over her shoulder to inspect the bracelet, which blinked at him and caused him to frown. “Hey, it’s not my fault Morse is easy to read. And don’t call me a dork!” His brothers snickering, the red triplet blushed and adjusted his cap to take out the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, flipping through the pages. “I have some rope in my backpack. If she’s there we can just lasso her and tie her up. I know knots, and _Tío_ Chito has been helping me earn my lasso badge.”

“I know some interrogation techniques Granny taught me,” Webby continued for him helpfully, swinging her feet back and forth. “And Louie brought his kohpesh along.”

“Then we’re prepared for the worst,” Dewey said while Louie coughed into his hand something about their older brother, earning him a look. “Let’s go, boys.”

It took them a few short strokes to approach the amphitheater, Huey anchoring the canoe to a pole and the kids getting out one by one, gathering onto the rocks nearby. Webby led the charge up onto the stage, their footsteps light and quick as they gathered around the trapdoor that Dewey had discovered during the shadow war, Louie taking his kohpesh from his back just in case as Huey fetched the rope from his backpack, looping it around his arm and then pushing it up his shoulder. With a nod, the middle triplet knelt and opened the trap door, and the four of them slipped in.

The lair was just as creepy as it had been that time a couple of weeks ago, and Webby’s shadow crept up along the wall until Lena could show her full form, emerging under the blue light. There was a meow, alerting them to the presence of a black cat that hissed and skittered into a hole in the wall. They sighed in unison, a small wave of relief flowing through the group.

“Thank Selene, because I was _so_ not ready to face Magica again,” Louie said with a huff of air, sliding his kohpesh into his backpack. Earning a look from the three others, he shrugged, slipping his hands into his pocket. “What? I only survived last time because she can’t aim for shit and I had plenty of money to dodge behind.”

“Language,” Huey responded with a frown, then reached for the flashlight hanging from his backpack, flicking it on to adjust the lighting from the blue. “Alright, let’s fan out. Lena, anywhere we should look in particular?”

The shadow girl on the wall shrugged, kicking her foot.

“Maybe something personal?” Dewey supplied, rolling his hands in a motion to try and help jog her memory. If a shadow could have a memory in the first place, he didn’t know.

Webby gasped and ran over to the makeshift bed, kneeling to feel around. “Hmm, pizza, ew dead rat…ahah!” She pulled out a familiar book, blowing dust off of it and turning her head to look at her shadow companion, who tilted her own. “Uh, last time we came looking for you, we found your diary. That’s how we found out…everything.” Her shadow crossed her arms. “I’m sorry! I thought you were carried off when Magica appeared and I was really worried…”

Lena seemed to sigh and roll her eyes, reaching to place a hand on Webby’s shadow shoulder, almost as though telling her it was okay. Her friendship bracelet glowed twice to confirm.

“Alright, so we got what we came for. Lena, anything else you want from here?” Huey asked, keeping his hand on the rope wrapped around his shoulder just in case he needed it. The shadow girl paused, then shook her head.

“I don’t think anything here’s that personal,” Dewey said with a look to Lena, who inclined her head that he was right. “If she moved between bases, she wouldn’t want anything to keep her tied down.”

“And Magica’s got that Sumerian amulet,” Louie continued for him with a hum, turning to look at the graffiti on the wall. It was kind of cool, but he wouldn’t want to live here. No wonder she was always sleeping over, like he’d said last time.

“In that case I think we’re done,” Webby said, tucking Lena’s diary into her backpack and adjusting the straps on her shoulders, rocking on her feet as she joined Louie in glancing around the room. “I wonder what that girl meant when she said she’d seen someone suspicious hanging around…”

“Hopefully we don’t find out,” Huey replied, gesturing for them to follow him up the ladder and onto the amphitheater platform, unaware that they were being watched by the cat that had slipped out earlier, it’s eyes narrowing at them. They boarded the canoe and began making their way back to the beach, the journey back quiet this time around with Dewey and Huey taking the oars.

Louie glanced to Webby, who had taken the diary out and was looking at it while her bracelet glowed comfortingly. He took hold of her arm gently, tilting his head to get her attention. “Hey, if there’s anyone who can fix this, it’s Uncle José,” he said quietly, glancing away and then sighing. “Look, I’m…I was a little jealous that he was spending so much time with you, but now I know it’s for a good cause.” He slid his hand back into his pocket to join the other, nudging her with his elbow. “This is the kind of thing Louie’s Kids is all about.”

She looked at him with a small smile, tilting her head to lean it against his shoulder despite Louie blanching a little. “Thanks, Louie. I guess…I guess I’m just worried.”

“Hey, we’ll be here if anything bad happens.”

Hopefully it wouldn’t.


	10. Chapter 9B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald, Panchito and José visit an old friend after a lunch date.

Donald parked his beat up old station wagon just outside of New Quackmore Square. So far the date had been uneventful, but that was good as far as he was concerned, even if lunch had been at the cheapest restaurant they all could afford and a walk along the docks. Some things never changed it seemed, and a look out the window told him that the Institute was the same as it ever was. Draping his elbow over the back of his seat, he turned his head to look at his partners.

“Ready to check out the old place?” he asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be. They had talked about it some over lunch but they had been more concentrated on enjoying each other’s company.

“Ready as we’ll ever be I guess, eh _amor_?” Panchito replied, glancing to José and receiving a nod in return.

The three of them got out, Donald locking the car before joining Panchito and José near the rear, sinking his hands into his casual flannel shirt pockets. The Square hadn’t really changed much in the last fifteen years since the battle with Felldrake and Sheldgoose, nor the ten years since they’d moved out of the mansion to take care of Della’s eggs. If anything, the residents had just gotten older.

Donald inhaled before sighing it out, startling when he was taken hold of by the elbow by both of his partners. He flushed deeply, a little embarrassed at himself as they started walking to the Institute. “Sorry. I’m…I’m honestly still getting used to the fact that you’re _here_ and not just behind a screen.”

Panchito shared a look with José over his head, the parrot tucking his arm further through Donald’s and leaning against him. “It’s okay, Donal’, so are we,” José told him softly, patting his arm gently. “These last few days here in Duckburg, with you, feel like a dream we are going to wake up from any moment now.”

“Sometimes I wake up and think I’m still in the tent,” Panchito said with a small laugh to himself, shaking his head. “Then I put my hand on you and remember where we are.”

Donald’s cheeks flushed darker, raising a hand to his face. “Selene above, I forgot how sappy you two can be.” Though the smile on his beak said otherwise as they walked past the statue in the middle of the square. If anything, he’d actually _missed_ the sappiness, even though he was probably going to pass out from all the blood going to his cheeks.

“Well be prepared, _meu amor_ , because we haven’t even started,” José purred into his ear, making a shiver run up the duck’s spine at the promises in his voice. The three of them paused before laughing together, coming to stand at the bottom of the steps leading into the Institute.

“…Maaaaybe we should’ve called ahead?” Panchito asked with a shrug, tilting his head to look at his shorter lovers. “We don’t know if she’s…” He was stopped mid sentence by the double doors opening and a chittering noise before something hit his chest, sending him backwards, landing a few feet away. Donald and José turned in his direction in alarm, ready to beat whatever it was off him before they spotted a familiar mop of red hair and the blue and white striped shirt.

“Ari?” Ari trilled and chirped, letting out a crow as they got off of Panchito and launched themselves at Donald, who barely reacted in time to catch them, the Aracuan letting out their strange laugh and Donald laughing himself. “I can’t believe you’re still around.”

“And he doesn’t look like he’d changed at all,” José said with some amusement as he walked over to help Panchito up from where Ari had practically tackled him to the ground. “You must tell me your secret, _meu amigo_.”

Ari tilted their head back from where they sat on Donald’s shoulders now, having wrangled themselves out of his grasp and was now affectionately nuzzling the top of the duck’s head. They chirped again, flipping off of their perch and landing on their feet, bouncing in place.

“Of course he’s still around. I couldn’t look after the Institute on my own now, could I?” The voice made them look to the doorway, a young woman standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and a bear looming almost menacingly behind her, had it not been for the goofy look on its face. Ari looked at her and trilled happily, zipping up to the top of the stairs as the Three Caballeros came close behind them. She placed her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes at them. “Yes yes, I should’ve listened to you when you said we were going to have guests today. Guess it’s a good thing I cancelled that board meeting.”

April hadn’t really changed much it seemed aside from her height, her hair short and dressed casually and modestly in a dress shirt and skirt, the bow ditched a long time ago. She leaned away from the doorframe and came forward, a smile across her beak. “It’s good to see you guys,” she said, reaching a hand towards them. Donald took hold of her hand, then pulled her in for a hug, José and Panchito not far behind him and embracing her at the sides. April struggled a bit before she relented with a bit of a sigh, returning it and then breaking the hug up before the bear rug could get into it.

“Sorry for dropping by unannounced, April,” said José as they stepped back, adjusting his coat. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say that it’s good to see you too.”

“S’alright. I mean, it’s technically still Donald’s place,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket and reaching for it, flicking the screen on. “Aunt Daisy and I have just been taking care of the estate.” April gestured them inside, Ari zipping ahead of them with a chirp and the bead rug lumbering after them.

“How is your aunt?” Panchito asked, his arms crossed behind his head casually as they walked in, taking the rear while Donald walked behind her, glancing around.

“Chasing after the rug rats,” April responded, thumb swiping over the screen of her phone before she showed them a picture of her aunt and three kids that didn’t appear to be any older than four. “Uncle Dapper’s busy most days so she brings them around sometime in the afternoon.”

“Wow, they married?” Donald asked a little incredulously, taking the phone from her and looking at the photos that made his brow furrow. Part of him ached, he’d admit it; the knowledge that Daisy had married the guy she’d tried to make him jealous of was…well, it stung. He felt Panchito’s hand on his elbow, tilting his head to look at the rooster who gave him a small smile.

“Don’t think any less of yourself, Donald, she made him work for it as much as she made you,” April said, turning to look at him and cross her arms over her chest. “They only got married five years ago.” At the look on his face, she gave him a raised eyebrow and a shrug. “Besides, you were more of an uncle to us in five years than he’s been for the last ten.” He flushed a bit, handing her the phone back and running his fingers through the feathers at the back of his head. “So what’re you guys here for anyway?”

“We thought we’d call by since we were in the neighbourhood,” José said, taking hold of Donald’s arm and giving it a squeeze. “Donald was showing us what’s changed in the last eight years since we’ve been gone.”

“Oh yeah, welcome back to America, you two,” April responded as Ari zipped in with a tray of assorted cups, drinks and biscuits, chirruping happily. “It’s actually a good thing you guys came by.” She took a seat in one of the plush chairs, gesturing for them to take the couch. Donald sat in the middle with José and Panchito on either side of him, leaning back against his partners as a Ari served the drinks.

José frowned, placing one of his hands on his knee and the other on Donald’s as he looked out the corner of his eye at his partners. They both looked equally as curious as he was, and he returned his attention to April as Ari handed them their drinks. “What do you mean?”

“Felldrake.” The three of them looked at her incredulously, April taking her tea from Ari and cupping it with both her hands, pursing her beak. “There’s been sightings. A few of our friends across the world have reached out to me online to give me evidence, and May swears up and down she saw Leopold in the sky during routine training, halfway across the country.”

“What about Xandra?” Donald asked, taking his coffee and sinking back against the other two Caballeros.

“Haven’t heard from her,” she said with a shake of her head and a shrug. “Not since she left for Goblin Kingdom five years ago. She thought she was on a lead to her freedom from the book, but you know how gods are. They lose track of time.”

Panchito paused, his hand tightening on Donald’s shoulder as he shared another look with them. “You don’t think Magica’s shadow trick got his attention?” the rooster asked, taking one of the biscuits from Ari’s tray. “If he’s just showing himself now, where’s he been for the last fifteen years?”

“Magic attracts magic alike,” José said with a tap of his fingers to his chin, pursing his beak. “It’s possible the mess she made got his attention from wherever he was.” He looked at Donald. “You and the boys _were_ on the news after all. He must’ve recognised you.”

Donald looked down at his coffee, staring into the depths of the drink as his shoulders hunched. After all this time, surely it couldn’t be, but then again, Magica had been trapped in Scrooge’s number one dime for fifteen years. Maybe her magic being removed caused some sort of ripple effect around the world. He suggested as such, fingers curling around the mug.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” April replied, trailing a finger around the rim of her tea cup. “We have to find Xandra before anything else. She’ll know what to do.” She crossed one leg over the other, taking a sip of her tea. “We may have some time yet.”

“At least we have time to prepare.” Panchito draped his arm around Donald’s shoulder fully as he felt the duck sink into his side with a sigh. He had some understanding of what he was feeling; worry for the kids that might get caught up in this mess. The rooster remembered something before returning his attention to April. “Oh, by the way, you have a little fan,” he said, nudging José who startled and realised what he was getting at, fetching the book from his jacket pocket and handing it over. “She wondered if she could have your autograph.”

“Heh, sure.” April took the book from him, pulling a pen from the pocket on her dress shirt and clicking it. “Wow this is really well read. I’d get mad about my book being treated like this but I’m kinda impressed. Name?”

“Webby Vanderquack. She actually reminds me a little of you and your sisters,” José said, causing Donald and Panchito to chuckle. “She’s…had a rough time since the shadow war. We’d appreciate it, April.”

“Alright.” April scribbled something on the inside cover, dating it and clicking the pen, shutting the book and handing it back over. “I wrote something special in there for her.” She tilted her head. “You should bring her here next time you come around.” There was a frown, her beak pursing as she looked at Donald. “I’m assuming there’ll be a next time anyway.”

“Of course,” the older duck said, giving her a smile despite the worry churning in his gut. He went to take a sip of his coffee before his phone buzzed, reaching for it and pulling it out of his flannel jacket. One was a text from Louie, telling him they’d arrived safe back at the mansion. The other was from Scrooge, all caps.

_URGENT. COME TO THE MONEY BIN, TO THE ROOM. YOU KNOW WHICH ONE._

_SHE’S BEEN FOUND._

Donald felt his blood run cold before he set his cup down on Ari’s tray, the Aracuan chirruping and tilting his head. He stood, fingers clenched at his sides before he gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, April, but there’s been…”

“It’s okay,” she said, gesturing for them to go. Donald smiled gratefully before turning to leave, Panchito and José not far behind with a wave to her. They followed him out the door and down the steps, his pace quickening when he realised they were behind him.

“Donal’? What’s wrong, _amor_?” José asked, his brow furrowing.

“It’s Della.” Donald stopped in front of the fountain, turning to look at them with worry etched across his face. “They received a transmission from her ship.” Panchito and José looked shocked and glanced at each other before they followed him in a haste back to the car, Donald tearing out of the parking spot as soon as they were all in.

His sister…she was alive?

What did that mean for him and the boys?

More importantly, what did that mean now that Felldrake was active again?

Donald swallowed and put his foot down on the pedal, increasing his speed and not caring about the limit. No time to worry about anything. They needed to get to the bin.

Now.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s a little bit of a headcanon of mine that Gyro worked on the Spear of Selene as his first project with Scrooge as his employer, to add to the duck angst :’)

“There’s no way it could be coming from the Spear!”

Gyro’s nasally, high-pitched voice was recognisable as Donald ran down the hall towards _that_ room, the other two Caballeros behind him matching him step for step. Never mind that he’d nearly pulled a Launchpad and crashed the station wagon into the parking lot to get here, but he’d been too impatient for the elevators, taking the steps two at a time. He didn’t stop to see the concerned looks behind him, didn’t stop at the thought of his boys being ripped away from him, didn’t stop because his chest was pounding in anxiety and from the memories bombarding him at that moment.

“How is she even alive after ten years? Her oxygen would’ve expired _ten minutes_ after the crash! That technology was obsolete even before its time!”

“I don’t care!” Scrooge’s accent was snappish, the thud of a cane hitting the table making Donald flinch internally as he stopped at the door, leaning down to press his hands to his knees and pant, catching his breath as Panchito and José came up behind him, both equally out of breath. “I want those connections rewired and back online as soon as possible, Gyro.”

Leaning against the doorframe, coughing a bit from the lack of air in his lungs, Donald pushed his way in, feeling hands take hold of his arms and helping him keep standing. Scrooge, Gyro and Fenton all turned to look to them, the anger dissipating from Scrooge’s face when he saw his nephew. “Donald…”

“We came as soon as we could, _Senhor_ ,” José began for him, rubbing Donald’s back between his shoulders as the duck gasped for air.

“Della,” he hacked out with a cough, thumping his chest and then straightening himself, looking at his uncle. “Where…?”

“We received a distress signal from the moon during the clean up from Magica’s attack,” Fenton said, a pile of papers in his arms with designs and sketches faint enough for Donald to look at. “Only today though. It was weak but, it was definitely from the Spear.”

“I-it’s just impossible.” Gyro was pacing around in one spot, his hands going everywhere. “In all my calculations, her survival was never…” He swallowed, adjusting his glasses and looking at Scrooge. “My apologies, Mr McDuck, but…”

“You’re excused, and you Mr Crackshell-Cabrera.” Scrooge took his spectacles off and pinched the bridge of his beak between his eyes with a heavy sigh, flopping against the chair that had been his companion day and night ten years ago. “See what you can do about getting the communications back online with a stronger signal.”

“Yessir.”

Both chicken and duck left, hurrying down the hall with their voices fading as Donald moved closer, his partners staying back as he placed his hands on the console, looking at the screen and swallowing deeply. “Is…is there…?” Scrooge turned and pressed a button with the end of his cane. The screen was static, but the voice was hers.

_“...Scrooge…Don…can…ear…e…”_

Donald felt his heart drop into his stomach, face paling across his beak as Scrooge pressed the button again, stopping the recording. His nephew leaned heavily against the console, pressing his hand to his forehead as he croaked out a question that had been on his mind. “Have you told the boys?”

“Nay, lad.” Scrooge shook his head, pursing his beak together. “I thought…I’d leave that to you. They’re your responsibility.” His hands tightened around his cane, ducking his head. “They’re my kin, but I wasn’t part of their lives until now. They trust you. I’m afraid if I told them…”

“It’d be the _Sunchaser_ all over again,” Donald finished for him, noticing the way his uncle bowed his head lower and nodded. He turned away from the console, squeezing Scrooge’s shoulder. “What can I do?”

“Unless you know a way to get to the moon, I’m afraid there’s not much, we just have to wait on Gyro,” the older duck said with a small sigh, leaning back and reaching to pat Donald’s hand before there was a cleared throat noise, making them look over to Panchito and José.

“What about the Moon Pyramid?” Panchito asked, arms crossed casually behind his head. At Scrooge’s look, he shrugged. “We went to the dark side of the moon fifteen years ago, it might still work.”

“Lad, this isn’t a time for fairy tales…”

“No, no he’s right,” Donald said, fingers tapping against his chin, then glanced at his partners. “We did, but I thought we crashed it upon our return impact?”

“The mummies might have repaired it if anything by now,” José said, leaning against his umbrella and the rooster next to him. “And, if I may, your sister might have been getting parts from the moon colony to repair her ship. Moon technology and the Spear might not be compatible, which explains why the signal would be weak.”

“You boys are talkin’ nonsense,” Scrooge said a little incredulously as Donald walked over to the other two to be embraced in a hug, reaching to return it. “There’s no such thing as moon mummies or…or moon technology or whatever! Della’s there, that’s all I know.”

“Do you trust me?”

The question from his nephew felt like a slap in the face, causing Scrooge to look at Donald as he turned to face him, hands finding his waist and offering comfort and support. More than he’d ever done in the last ten years. Scrooge’s eyes swelled, tilting his head away before shaking it. “What sort of a question is that, lad? Of course I do.”

“Then let me borrow Launchpad for the weekend,” he said, a plan already beginning to form in his head. “We’ll go to Egypt to scope out the Moon Pyramid, and if there’s nothing we can do right then and there, we’ll come back to Duckburg and wait for your scientists to get something together.”

Scrooge pursed his beak together, glancing at his hands around his cane. His shoulders slackened as he stood, walking over to his nephew and standing a few feet from him and the other two. “I can’t lose you too, Donald,” he said, looking at him with a sorrowful face. “Not again.”

“We’ll bring him home, _señor_ ,” Panchito promised, José nodding in agreement. “We did it once, we can do it again.”

“Then I trust you boys to do so,” Scrooge said, nodding his consent. “I’ll have Beakley gather some supplies for you and inform Launchpad about the situation, and I’ll take the kids on a weekend trip just to keep them occupied so that they don’t ask questions. I have something in mind, and it won’t be dangerous.” Maybe. Possibly.

Donald reached to his uncle, then enveloped him in a hug, receiving one in return as he buried his face in the older duck’s shoulder. “We’ll bring her home,” he murmured, feeling Scrooge nod in agreement before they broke apart. He turned to join Panchito and José again, the two wrapping him up in their arms as they walked out of the room, leaving Scrooge to look behind him at the static monitor.

“We’ll bring you home, Della. I swear. No failures this time.”


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> José knows Donald too well.

“Donal’, are you okay?”

Donald glanced up from where he was packing a backpack, folded shirt in hand, to where José was looking at him with a frown. He hadn’t said much at all since they’d left the bin, and with Panchito off distracting the kids, they were busy packing provisions. Who knew how long they’d be gone on this mission if the moon rocket worked. He shrugged the question off, stuffing the shirt in his pack.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” José gave him a look and he sighed, placing a hand on his hip as he lifted the other to his neck. “I…I guess I’m a little worried.”

“Donal’…” José placed his change of shirt on top of his and Panchito’s pack, coming around the bed to sit near his partner. “Is this about the boys? Or your sister?”

“Both? I guess in a way it’s both.” Donald threw another shirt into his backpack and ran his fingers through his feathers, sitting down next to him. “I was so mad at her when she wanted to go into space when they were going to hatch and I…said a lot of things I regret.”

“I know,” José said, taking hold of one of the duck’s hands with his, brushing his thumb over the side and pulling him close. “Whatever happens, you’ll still be part of their lives, you know that.” Donald made a grumpy noise and turned his beak to press it into his neck, letting out a breath. “And Panchito and I will be here, _amor_ , I promise.”

“Thanks, Zé,” he mumbled, quietly humming under his breath as he threaded their fingers. It was nice, having them back in his life for real, not behind a computer screen. “I’m being dumb.”

“I think it’s a perfectly rational feeling.” José nuzzled the top of his head, his free hand slipping behind to rub the bottom of his back. “Relax, _querido_. Things will turn out fine.”

They stayed like that for a good five minutes before Donald huffed out a sigh, tilting his head up slightly as he heard noises and loud whoops coming from outside the room. “I suppose we should go rescue Panchito from the kids before someone breaks something.”

The parrot chuckled, but relented the snuggling nonetheless, standing with him and going to the door with Donald’s hand in his, keeping their fingers entwined. He opened the door a little, just in time to see Dewey run past with a shriek and a Nerf gun in his hands, quickly followed by Louie and Huey in succession. Panchito ran after them in hot pursuit, José able to see him holding two like they were his own guns, aiming for the boys.

The crash at the end of the hallway made the two of them look at each other before José flung the door open and then stepped out, seeing Webby stringing the triplets up in a rope trap big enough for the three of them in spite of their squirming.

“Is it safe to come out now?” Donald asked with an amused smile, watching Panchito and Webby high five each other particularly hard, neither blinking an eye.

Panchito tilted his head when he heard his voice, beaming at them and pumping his fists into the air. “We won!” he crowed, picking her up into his hands with a twirl and earning a laugh from the young girl, who flushed at her beak.

“Only because you drew identical straws,” Huey huffed, his hat off and on the floor below the triplets, pausing his squirming as he wriggled his shoulders. “Is this a double loop knot? I would’ve used a slip stitch.”

“Would you stop telling them how to capture us?” Louie snapped.

“If we’re including lassos and traps in this game, they’re going to be made correctly!”

“Uncle Donald, please let us down,” Dewey whined, his feet wriggling in the air as the two adults came closer, pouting. “All the blood’s rushing to my head.”

Donald laughed at his boys, shaking his head; they got their sore loser attitudes from him it seemed, and it made him beak slightly as he went over to help them, looking at Panchito who shrugged. “Well, we _were_ going to interrogate them, but I suppose they can be taken away for questioning,” the rooster said cheerfully, Webby lifting her foot off the rope and helping Donald lower the trap.

“It’s a good knot,” he commented as he fiddled with it, fingers slipping through the rope with ease from his days in the navy. “But I agree with Huey, a slip stitch would’ve been better.”

“But then it would’ve been easy for them to get away,” Webby said with a pout, crossing her arms behind her head, Lena copying her from her shadow. “I _have_ been teaching them how to loosen ropes since that time the Beagle Boys caught us at Funso’s.”

“It’s not a lesson if we can’t escape,” Louie argued, rubbing his wrists and picking up his Nerf gun from where it had dropped in the motion of the trap, slipping it into his hoodie pocket. He turned, taking notice of the look on Donald’s face and frowning but saying nothing, shrugging. “Anyway, are we done here? There’s an _Ottoman Empire_ marathon on this afternoon that I wanna catch.”

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Panchito said with a smile as the boys ran off, Huey and Dewey shoving at each other for some reason.

Webby hesitated, then turned to look at José before glancing away. “ _Tío_ , have you had a chance to look through the diary we brought back?” she asked curiously, fingers finding each other and linking together, twiddling her thumbs. “I’m sorry if I’m pushy but I just…”

“It’s fine, my girl.” José gave her a nod, crossing his arms and sharing a look with Donald who gave him a raised eyebrow, inclining his head. “I will do my best to look through it to see if there’s anything that might help us, and we can continue when Donald, Panchito and I get back.”

She tilted her head, frowning slightly. “Where are you going?”

The three Caballeros looked at each other. “We got word from April on where Xandra might be,” Donald said finally, the other two nodding. It was partially the truth, he decided, because she did get brought up in the conversation they had with their old ward. “We’re going to check in on a few old friends.”

“Ooh, like King Vomit, or the Roman gods?” Webby asked, her eyes shining bright and her tail wagging behind her cutely. “Can I come? _Please_? I’m trained in espionage and martial arts and…”

“ _Lo siento, pequeña señorita_ ,” Panchito apologised, shaking his head and earning a pout. “Not this time.”

“ _Sím_ ,” agreed José, nodding and giving her a charming smile. “We don’t know if things have changed much, and despite you being a very capable young lady, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Mrs B would kill us,” Donald groused with a run of his fingers through his feathers, shaking his head before he squatted in front of her, draping his arms over his knees. “I need you to keep an eye on the boys for me, okay?”

“Well sure.” Webby pursed her beak together, rubbing one of her arms and looking down at the floor. “I’m always looking out for them, and now that Lena’s almost tangible she can help me.” There was a nod from her shadow. “And I’m sure Granny wouldn’t kill you,” she added, looking Donald in the eye. “She just gets concerned, that’s all.”

“That I do.” The three adults jumped like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, Webby unfazed as she turned to look at her grandmother, Bentina coming up behind her with a box in her hands. “Go find the boys, dear,” she said, looking at Donald with a small frown. “I need to talk to Donald for a moment.”

“Sure, Granny. Have a safe trip!”

Once she was gone down the corridor, Bentina handed the box over to Panchito, who took it without a problem. “Inside the box you’ll find some provisions. Food to make into meals, a flashlight, a first aid kit. Enough to make it to the moon and back.”

“Thank you, madam,” José responded, inclining his head gratefully before he reached to place his hand on Panchito’s shoulder, turning the rooster around. “We’ll go put this away,” he said, nodding at Donald and leading their partner away with a confused look on his face.

Bentina waited until they were out of earshot, before she looked at Donald and adjusted her spectacles. “I read that book to Webby time and time again when she was younger,” she began, pausing and looking away briefly. “Having known Scrooge for a while, I knew it was based around the life of his nephew, and while some of the ideas sounded far fetched, I learned as a SHUSH agent that nothing should be deemed impossible.”

Donald frowned. “What’re you trying to get at, Mrs B?”

She sighed. “What I’m saying is, I know you can bring her home, even if your uncle doesn’t think such a feat is possible.” Bentina reached to squeeze his shoulder. “You care about those boys enough to neglect yourself,” she said softly, “and I know if Webby’s parents ever came back to reclaim her I would be worried just as much as you are now. Just…don’t ever think of yourself as someone who _doesn’t_ deserve to be part of their life.”

It kind of touched him a bit, knowing that she worried that much about him. They got off on the wrong foot when he and the boys had first moved into the mansion, but she really was just trying to look out for them. Donald reached with a hand to return the squeeze, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Thanks, Mrs B.”

“Not a problem.” She squeezed his shoulder again and then turned to leave, before she looked over her shoulder. “By the way, if Mister Carioca succeeds in bringing Lena back, I know I for one would be glad to see her again.”

Donald stared after her as she left the hallway, swallowing slightly. How did she know about that? Was Duckworth gossiping? Huey had said how the ghost butler had told him to check the library, but last he checked Duckworth and Beakley couldn’t stand each other. Still, if she hadn’t told Scrooge yet, she obviously wanted them to succeed.

He hurried back to the room to get the rest of his gear ready. It was going to be a long trip to Egypt.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald, Panchito and José walk down memory lane. Literally.

“I can’t make the landing, you guys are gonna have to jump!”

Donald was afraid something like this was going to happen.

The sands of Egypt shifted constantly but they had been able to pinpoint the Moon Pyramid’s last known location on a normal map, with April’s help of course. It turned out the girl’s documenting the whole Legend fiasco had come in handy, but not handy enough to have predicted this. There was a sand storm happening, and rather than being able to land in Cairo and set out the next morning on foot, the _Sunchaser_ had been turned away from the airport because of it.

In all honesty, Donald would have loved to show his sister that her plane, her baby, was still in working condition, so it was mutually agreed upon that they needed to jump.

“It worked out over the Nascar Lines,” Panchito said cheerfully as he strapped a parachute belt around his waist, José helping him adjust the straps around his shoulders.

“Yes, but _amor_ , that was magical grounds,” the parrot said, already strapped into his own chute with his backpack slung around his front. “Had we not been transported to the Nascar realm, we would have been pancakes.”

“Huh. Good point.”

“You guys got everything?” Launchpad asked Donald, looking over his shoulder at him.

“Should do,” he responded, grumbling under his breath as he tried to clip the belt around his waist together before José came over to help him too, buckling it tight. He turned his head to look at Launchpad, frowning. “When you get back, just give anything we left to Mrs B. We don’t want the boys to know just yet.”

“Because “we don’t want to break their wee young hearts again”. Mr McDee already _expressly_ told me not to tell the kids, especially Dewey.” Launchpad nodded and waved a hand. “No worries, Mr Dee, my beak is sealed.”

Donald wasn’t so sure somehow.

The _Sunchaser_ ’s hatch opened after the three of them climbed down to the lower level, the wind causing feathers to whip back and forth. Donald tapped the ear piece on the side of his head that served as a communicator, his two partners doing the same to theirs. Launchpad called out good luck, but they didn’t seem to hear him. Panchito was the one who took off first, letting out a _grito_ on the way. Donald and José shared a look before the parrot shrugged and followed after him, the duck not far behind.

They free fell for what seemed like forever, a hell of a lot calmer than that trip to the Nascar Lines fifteen years ago Donald thought to himself, focusing on the ground even as the dust storm kicked them up a bit. He could see the great pyramids far below them, and as one they pulled on the tags of their parachutes, opening them up. Their descent slowed down after that, landing them in the middle of the sites without much of a complication, the storm seeming to be avoiding it.

Panchito threw his chute off, laughing a bit to himself as the other two Caballeros did the same. José squinted up at the sun, coughing as some sand blew into his mouth. “I suggest we find the Moon Pyramid before the dust storm fades and the tourists come back, or we might find ourselves with more work than we need.”

“According to April’s notes, it’s not far from here,” Donald said, pulling out his cell phone and flicking open the email that she had sent him when he’d asked her for the info. He glanced around them, then turned to Panchito and José. “I think there’s some kind of shield around the pyramids that’s sheltering them from the storm.”

“Well we got through it just fine,” Panchito hummed, scratching the back of his neck before he began ridding himself of the parachute pack, shifting his backpack around after dropping it.

They started walking in the direction that April’s map had given them, sheltered from the elements by the pyramids and their magic shield or whatever it was. Donald had no idea, but he wouldn’t be surprised in the least if that was the case. It helped to keep the area cool, which suited the three of them just fine considering their last trip to the pyramids. Coming up on a small hill between the Great Pyramid and the Pyramid of Khafre, José brought a pair of binoculars to his eyes, Panchito and Donald breaking out their water flasks to take a swig.

“April’s information was correct,” he said, tail feathers wagging slightly as he beamed, looking over the binoculars to his lovers. “It’s just ahead.”

The three Caballeros practically slid down the sand to get to it, but they got there, staring at the moon carved doors that they had exited just fifteen years before. “Brings back memories, huh, boys?” Donald asked, pressing a hand against a brick and feeling the ship hum to life underneath his touch.

“At least this time we kinda know what we’re doing?” Panchito suggested, tilting his head as the door opened with a whoosh of air, sweeping sand around between their feet and legs. He pulled a flashlight out of the side pocket of his pack, flicking it on.

“It’s always a blessing,” José said with a shrug as the trio ventured inside, bringing up the rear while Panchito took the lead.

“We should still be careful,” Donald huffed out, looking up briefly from his phone before glancing back to it. “If Felldrake has been here, he might’ve reset the traps that we tripped up before.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement before they all lapsed into silence, more keen on being able to get the jump on anyone that might be in the pyramid with them. Panchito stopped them with a thrown out hand when they were a few feet away from the cockpit, pressing a finger to his beak and receiving nods before he lowered his hand, pressing the button near the door. It opened with a hiss, slowly, giving them time to drop into fighting ready stances.

There was nobody behind the door, letting them breathe a small sigh of relief each and then looking at each other as they entered, going straight to the console.

“Let’s see…from April’s translation notes and what I remember, this is the take off switch.” Donald pointed to the thruster clutch, then pressed a button near it gingerly, closing his eyes before he could see what it did. Doors hissed open, metal creaking as three seats came up from the floor and settled into place behind the console.

“Convenient,” José chirped, taking his backpack off by the straps almost as one with his partners, Panchito testing the firmness of the seats before sitting down on Donald’s left, José taking the right.

“Man this is bringing back memories, eh _amigos_?” The rooster ran his finger along the edge of the console, bringing dust away with it and brushing it off as he turned his head to look at them, watching Donald take the pilot’s seat. “At least I’ll be able to enjoy the ride this time.”

“Ah that’s right, you were busy trying to wrestle the pilot into submission with Xandra.” José sighed a bit fondly at the memories as Donald flicked the right buttons on, the engine sputtering before it hummed to life, lighting blue around them. “I think that’s when I fell in love.”

“Aw, with me?”

“No, you were much later.” José waved his hand. “I told you I crush on beautiful women that can kill me with their thighs, remember?”

“Oh right, I forgot how badly you were about her.”

The shield opened up, allowing them to see the outside as Donald grumbled a little under his breath. As much as he loved being with them again, he needed to be able to concentrate. A button push drew their chairs closer, and he reached to take hold of the thruster and throttle. “Are we ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be, _amor_ ,” José said, placing a hand over the one on his side of the console as Panchito mimicked him on Donald’s other side, giving them a thumbs up.

_I’m coming, Della_. “Count down in five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

Donald pressed a couple of buttons.

“Two.”

“One.”


	14. Chapter 13A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moon might not be the barren wasteland people think it is.

Donald’s hands clenched and unclenched around the controls as they landed the moon pyramid spacecraft, together this time and not in the crashed mess from fifteen years ago that would’ve made Launchpad proud. Picking up their supplies from where they’d stashed them mid flight, the Three Caballeros exited in suits more their size that Gyro had whipped up from somewhere for them before wishing them good luck.

Some part of him wanted to know just how much of a hand the chicken had had in the events leading up to the Spear of Selene.

José reached into Donald’s backpack to pull out the tracker that had been implanted with leftover material from the Spear that Scrooge had dug out of his secret room in the archives, handing it to him as Panchito went on ahead, scouting their surroundings. Aside from the base they had just landed in, there was nothing much on the dark side of the moon, and Donald dared to hope against hope that his sister was still alive.

“Hey, _amigos_.” Panchito’s call came over the radio and he waved them over where he was squatting at the top of a crater not far from the landing site, arms draping over his knees and peering down into it. The landscape still bared scars from their battle with Felldrake here, all those years ago, scattered pieces of robots from Xandra’s arrows littering the ground they walked on. Donald and José hurried over to the rooster, the tracker pinging like crazy in Donald’s hand as they reached him.

Donald’s eyes widened.

The crash site sat at the edge of the moon where the light of the sun hit, shadowed by the darkness of space. He had only seen the ship in pictures, but it bared some semblance to his sister’s rocket, albeit smashed to pieces. Donald scrambled down into the crater, kicking up moon dust as he went and ignoring the sounds of his partners’ voices as they crackled over the radio. He didn’t care about what they might find, just that he’d finally found her.

At least, where she should have been. Approaching the site close up, he could see a tangle of wires and mangled metal, mechanics that were – as Gyro had so aptly put it back at the Bin – obsolete the minute they were made. The wreckage, however, looked lived in, a screen that looked like the TV from Granny Elvira’s old farmhouse buzzing with static and occasionally picking up feed, Donald recognising it as _The Duckhess Approves_. A makeshift bed sat in the corner, blankets torn and sewn back together in patches with other material.

“Della?” Donald didn’t recognise his own voice as the word was croaked out from his throat, raspy and dry from the exhaled air he just let out. He felt hands on his shoulders, leaning back against José and Panchito as they finally caught up to him, burying his helmeted head against his arm. He couldn’t do it. Not again. Not after finally admitting that their family needed to be reunited and telling the boys about their mother.

“Maybe she just stepped out?” Panchito suggested unhelpfully, earning a look from José before the parrot’s spine tingled, blinking blankly and shaking his head, turning to look over his shoulder in the direction they had just come from.

“ _Meus amores_ , something tells me we will find our answers back there.” He pursed his beak together, grimacing. It had been far too long since he’d felt such unsavoury magic, and there was two pinging his senses at the back of his head, too familiar to be coincidence. Gently, he and Panchito tugged Donald away from the crash site, walking back up the slope of the crater and to the landing bay.

The mood was too heavy to enjoy looking at the stars around them, shooting this way and that and making a brilliant light show. Only, upon closer inspection, José realised that the light show wasn’t coming from the stars around them, but rather on the horizon, closer to them than he thought. He threw his hand out to stop Donald and Panchito from walking, pushing them behind a destroyed structure.

“What is it?” Donald asked, not entirely in the mood to be hiding from anything.

“There.” José gestured, drawing their attention towards two figures. One was tall and larger bodied than the three of them, the other shorter and slimmer, appearing to be working on the remains of a moonbot, wires pulled and sparking.

“Is that…” Panchito didn’t bother finishing his sentence, because the three of them recognised that silhouette anywhere, especially with the hulking figure behind him. The dark side of the moon made it difficult to see, the lights from the moon base dim at the distance they were from it, but the spark coming from the wires lit up the smaller figure’s face.

Donald felt his heart skip a beat.

“Della…”

“Wait.” José placed his hand in the crook of Donald’s arm, motioning for him to stay quiet. There was no sense rushing into things when they didn’t know the details, and their radios were picking up some static, the microphones Gyro had built into the mechanics working in their favor.

“ _So you say you saw your family on your TV_?”

“ _Yep_! _I managed to get a message through to Uncle Scrooge at last, I’m sure we’ll be able to give you and Leopold a lift back to earth too, Mister Sheldgoose. You’ve been a great help to me after all_.”

“ _How kind of you to offer, Miss Della_.”

“ _Please, just Della’s fine_.”

Donald palmed his helmet, grumbling under his breath about her being gullible enough to believe that, but he paused. He didn’t know her mental state; Della had always been adventurous and optimistic, even when they were kids but she could likely believe anything that would be told to her after so long by herself up here. José nodded when he saw the realisation dawn on Donald’s face, gently letting his arm go when he knew that his lover wouldn’t go rushing head first into danger. The parrot tapped at his own helmet like he would his chin, frowning.

“We need to get her away from him,” Panchito murmured over their communication devices, keeping his own hand on Donald’s shoulder for now. He didn’t quite trust him not to make something out of this when they didn’t know the whole situation.

“I just need five minutes,” the duck whispered, miming rolling his sleeves up even though it was impossible in their gear.

“No,” José said, shaking his head. “Not right now. He might do something to her.”

Donald gritted his teeth, but stayed where he was. They watched them for a while longer, and it pained him to watch Della laugh and chatter about things to the Caballeros’ sworn enemy. In those minutes, José observed a few hints that Sheldgoose had helped her with her oxygen supply, if the purple glow around Della’s head was any indication, and the chatter was obviously good for her.

“ _My kids helped Uncle Scrooge save Duckburg, you know_.”

“ _Oh really_? _I didn’t realise you had children, Della_.”

Donald’s hackles raised at the mention of the kids, his shoulders hunching and ready to jump in there, but José and Panchito kept their hands on him, rubbing gently through the space suit.

“ _Sure do. My brother and uncle must have raised them to be good kids_.” She sighed a little wistfully, pausing in the work that she was doing on repairing the rocket before her, her shoulders sagging. “ _Donald was really looking forward to being an uncle. I should’ve listened_ …”

Felldrake seemed to pause. “… _Donald_?”

“Now.”

Donald shot out from their hiding spot once José gave the word, the other two Caballeros not far behind him as he raced in. The move seemed to shock both Della and Felldrake, who had let his guard down up until the point where Della had mentioned him by name. He reached, his hand grabbing for hers as José switched Felldrake’s magic out for his own in the confusion, securing her oxygen supply and making sure he didn’t have one up on them.

“YOU THREE?!” The screech of rage from the warlock seemed to echo in the vastness of the moon valley, the purple magical glow surrounding him as Panchito gamely tackled Leopold at the back, the honking noise from the monster deafening as he reached for the wings, José facing off with Felldrake himself, shadows dancing around him. “Why is it that after _fifteen years_ you finally show your faces?!”

“…Donald?” The soft question from behind him made him look over his shoulder, where he was shielding his sister. She looked confused, worried, annoyed all at once and he swallowed.

“…Hey, Dels.” His response was equally soft, brow furrowing worriedly. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” She touched him hesitantly then, as though realising he was real, collapsed against him, a heaving sob leaving her chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“We can talk about it later,” he reassured her, patting the hand on his arm as his lovers held their enemies off. “Right now, we need to take care of Sheldgoose.”

Della frowned at him, tilting her head and turning it to watch the warlock fling a blast of magic. “Why? He’s done nothing but help me.”

Donald grimaced, scratching the nape of his neck through his suit. “Look, long story short, he’s our enemy. I promise I’ll tell you everything on the flight home.” She pursed her beak before sighing and nodding, watching him hold his hand to her, smiling softly. “I missed you, Dels.”

His sister returned the look, then wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I missed you too, Donnie.”

“A little help?!”

Della looked at the fighting, then turned her attention to him, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll help your friend out with Leopold. You go take care of Mister Sheldgoose.” Donald nodded, and the twins split into their respective parties.

It felt good to have his sister back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There will be a part two)


	15. Chapter 13B

Scrooge rubbed his temples as he sank back into the plush office chair, then adjusted his specs to read through the paper in his hand again. He’d looked over the statistics sheet time and time again in the last twenty four hours, the data not making any sense – and _he_ was Scrooge McDuck, smarter than the smarties! Gyro had taken the time to explain what the data was about, in between prepping for construction of a new Spear should Donald and the boys not be successful, but it still made little sense to him.

Maybe he was old.

Maybe he was tired.

Taking his specs off, he leaned his head against his free hand and sighed, dragging it down his face. Briefly, Scrooge glanced at the picture of him, his nephew and niece and the yet unhatched triplets that now sat proudly on his desk, his brow furrowing slightly sadly. The guilt that he had felt for ten years, the sorrow of losing his kin, had resurfaced the last couple of days or so, since they had learned that Della was alive. The feelings that he had swallowed down and kept under strict lock and key like it belonged in the Bin was churning in his gut.

“Ach, curse me kilts,” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head. “I’ll no do any good sitting around like this.” Pushing his chair out, Scrooge stood, cracking his back with a stretch and then reached for his cane, walking toward the office door. It was almost lunch time anyway, yet he hadn’t seen Bentina or Duckworth come by yet, although if they had he doubted that he’d paid attention.

Wandering down the hallway and pondering getting himself a cup of nutmeg tea, he paused in the doorway to the den, where the TV was on, the silhouettes of the kids plain as day. Although he had to admit that Webbigail’s shadow looked a little different, but otherwise he thought nothing of it. Scrooge placed his hand on his hip, leaning against his cane as he vaguely watched Roxanne Featherly interviewing citizens. “Och, what’s that vulture got the people complaining about now?”

The kids seemed to jump at his voice, Huey turning from where he sat at the edge of the couch to wave him over. “It’s amazing, Uncle Scrooge! Meteorologists everywhere are picking up strange light signals from the moon during the day! The moon doesn’t even reflect its own light, let alone auroras like they’re saying!”

“It’s all over my Waddle feed,” Louie chimed in as his brothers grumbled something under their breaths about Mark Beaks being the worst.

“You don’t think Magica’s back, do you, Uncle Scrooge?” Webby asked quietly, twiddling her thumbs in her lap and looking at the boys before glancing to him.

Scrooge looked at the young ducklings’ faces, the expressions ranging from suspicious to excitement to worry. Curse his kilts. He snorted, waving a hand nonchalantly. “Please, that hag was stripped of her powers the minute her staff was destroyed on your Uncle Donald’s thick head. Besides, even if it was Magica, how did she get up on the moon?” They looked at each other and murmured in agreement before he cleared his throat again. “To tell the truth, I sent Donald and the boys on a mission to…retrieve something of mine. Those lights are probably coming from them. They’ll be back in a day or so.”

“Retrieve?” Dewey asked, suspicion on his voice and leaning against Webby who looked at him with a shrug. “Do you have like a top secret laboratory on the moon or something?”

“Yes.” It came without hesitation from Scrooge’s beak, and something that he knew he’d probably regret later. “Just a research laboratory, mind you, nothing too ominous or anything like that.”

The kids looked at him with some concern before Huey broke out into excited babbling with Webby, both his nephew and niece squealing while Dewey went back to looking at the TV. Only Louie kept his eyes on him as he breathed a small sigh of relief, Scrooge realising the look on his face clearly said ‘you’re up to something’, before he returned his attention to his phone, thumb quick in its pace. Scrooge turned away from the kids and made a hasty retreat back to his office.

He needed to call Gyro and the labs, post haste.

———————————

“Why won’t you Caballeros just _die_?!”

“I could say the same about you, _meu amigo_.”

Felldrake snarled like the wild demon he was, warded off by the protection spell José had summoned up around the four of them. Leopold had retreated to lick his wounds in some cold crater, Della and Panchito having run him off to the point where he refused to turn and help his master. Donald looked out the corner of his eye at José, recognising the exhaustion beginning to set in on the parrot’s body. They needed to throw Felldrake off and leave before he collapsed.

“Argh, enough of this!” Felldrake threw up his hands, robed sleeves sliding down to his elbows. “I shall have your heads on a platter soon enough! Leopold! Bring daddy’s book!”

José felt a chill roll up his spine at the tone around the word “book”, inhaling sharply as his spell threatened to crack with his lack of concentration, his hands flexing. Donald and Panchito shared a look, one of slight confusion, and Della looked even more confused than they were, which was understandable. Something gold came flying out the corner of their eye, flung from the crater that Leopold had retreated to, the monster chasing after it and clamping his mouth around the binder, stopping at his master’s side and wagging his tail.

José’s mouth went dry, Panchito’s beak paled and Donald let loose a shout.

They all recognised that book.

Felldrake smirked wickedly at them, handling the golden atlas delicately in his hands as he tilted his head, wiping drool from it. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering where your friend, the Goddess of Adventure, went off to all those years ago. She’s been helping me get things ready, for my return upon this mortal world.” He ran his thumb along the ridge, teeth showing in his grin. “You asked earlier what happened to Sheldgoose. The poor fool gave out once my will was stronger. Xandra will meet the same fate eventually. Oh she struggles, but she will fall under my control willingly once more.”

“You monster.”

José saw red.

The magic aura around them changed, from green to black, and Donald took hold of both Panchito and Della, turning to shield them from the sudden blast of black magic that enveloped the field. The burst kicked up dust and rocks around them, whipping in the wake of the outburst of emotion that José was feeling, but the sorcerer was gone in a golden blink, his laughter echoing around them as dust kept moving, spurned on by the magic that had lifted it. Then, just like that, it died down, José collapsing forward to the ground before Panchito dodged around Donald to scoop him up, cradling the parrot closely and looking at the twins.

“He’s just exhausted,” he sighed out. “He’ll be fine once he has proper rest on the way home.”

“Yeah, but…Xandra…” Donald pursed his beak together before rubbing the back of his helmet. “I guess there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Not until we get home and Della and José both rest.”

“Who’s Xandra?” Della asked, looking back and forth between her brother and his friend as Panchito stood, cradling José in his arms bridal style. “She a friend of yours?”

Donald inhaled slightly, then turned his attention to her as they started making their way back to the moon base. “You…remember that year I decided to strike out on my own, right? When I said I was done with you and Uncle Scrooge and our adventures?”

His sister clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms behind her head. “Like I could forget. It’s not every day your twin brother says he’s tired of living in your shadow.”

He grimaced a bit at that. “Uh yeah. I, ah, also wanted to try having my own place to impress Daisy.” Donald twisted his beak. “Not the best plan, I know, but I thought I could do it. Until I lost my job, my house burned down and Daisy broke up with me all in the same day.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why Uncle Scrooge was so pissed about the massive mortgage bill he got.” Della nodded, shrugging. “That when you met those guys?”

“Yup.” Donald looked ahead of them where Panchito was in the lead, a small smile crossing his face. “Uncle Coot had left his house to the three of us. We didn’t really understand why, but Xandra helped us figure it out.”

“And she’s a…Goddess?” Della threw her hands up at the look he gave her. “I know I know. I dated Selene for like, five years or something before I got pregnant, I shouldn’t doubt your claims about your friend.”

“José had a huge crush on her,” Panchito piped up unhelpfully as he stopped in front of the moon pyramid they’d arrived in, his hands too full to press anything. “Could kill you with her thighs if she wanted to.”

“Well can’t say I blame him in that case, she sounds hot.” Della tilted her head, watching Donald gently touch José’s helmet before he reached for the door. She was anything if not observant, especially about things concerning her brother. “So did you guys, like, save the world or something?”

“More like the universe,” Donald said with a slight smirk, the rooster nodding in agreement as he slipped, inside ahead of them once again. “No big.” Della followed after Panchito while he brought up the rear, watching his sister in turn. He was still concerned about her mental well being, but she seemed to be healthy so far. “Felldrake trapped her in that book in the first place. Made her his slave and had her transport him all over the world to do evil.”

“I thought he gave off a vibe,” Della said with her arms crossed, not paying attention to the door closing behind them. “I just wasn’t sure what kind. I guess I was so focused on getting home to the kids that I…I guess I kinda thought he was a hallucination at first. He was your enemy?”

“The worst,” Donald grumbled as he opened the door to the cockpit, watching Panchito gently place José down on the floor and grab a pillow and blanket from storage. “Imagine Gladstone’s smarminess and times it by a thousand.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah.” The male duck pulled his helmet off as the cockpit pressurised, filling with air from storage. “Anyway, long story short, Uncle Coot had left his house to us because we were descendants of the last guys that beat him, and we thought we’d done it too.” Donald took the captain’s seat again, turning his head to look at Panchito. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“So long as the rocket doesn’t shake too much, I think so.” The rooster had unclipped his helmet and José’s, looking at Donald over his shoulder. “Getting him home is a priority at least.”

“I wonder if I could land this thing in Duckburg,” Donald pondered, Della taking one of the seats at his side as Panchito took the other, though his eyes were on José’s resting body. “Either way, I guess Launchpad will be waiting for us.” He flicked a few switches.

“Since when do you know how to fly something, Donnie?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Dels.”

“Like how the three of you are dating?” There was splutters from both her brother and his friend. “Please, I could tell from three feet away. You’ve always been obvious about your crushes.” She laughed as the engine started.

“Actually, we’re married,” Panchito chirped, flicking a few buttons on his side of the console.

“Whaaaaaaat?!”


	16. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> José meets a certain ne’er-do-well while unconscious.

Brown eyes opened to a world of pitch black. It took José a moment to remember what had gotten him here, to the realm between waking and dreaming, and when he did, the surrounding darkness flashed green, before the hue faded away as he gathered himself, shaking his head. He was unconscious, he knew that much; overexerting himself in regards to using his magic tended to have that effect, and it had been a long time since he’d felt the need to use that much excessive energy.

José’s feet touched nothing solid, yet it felt like ground, tail feathers shifting behind him. “I’d kill for a cigar right now,” he huffed out as he massaged his forehead, speaking to no one in particular.

“‘Fraid I don’t have any on me. I might be a shadow, but that doesn’t mean that I can go and get whatever I want.” The voice shocked him enough to make him look up. Usually in these situations he was by himself until his body decided that he’d rested enough, but there was someone else here, in the dark, and he recognised her outline. She crossed her arms, floating there. “I dunno what you did, but it beats being alone here.”

“You are…Lena, yes?”

“Some part of me is I guess.” Lena’s beak twisted into a grimace as she curled on herself a little, the light blue glow surrounding her illuminating the darkness like a night lamp, coming from the bracelet around her wrist. “I’m not sure anymore.”

José got a good look at the “teenager” in front of him, standing and tilting his hat with his thumb. He gave a small sigh, cupping his hands and shaking his head. “My dear, whatever you think you are, you are. It’s that simple. You are either Lena or a shadow. You can be both or neither.”

“Then I guess I’m Lena for now.” Her form seemed to solidify at that, her sneakers touching the “ground” underneath them. “Is this some place between?”

“You could call it that.” José hummed a bit as he took a sitting position, legs crossing underneath him. “I’ve never been able to determine what it is, exactly. If it’s a world all of its own or a place between, I only come here when I’ve exhausted myself using my magic.”

Lena hesitated a bit before she joined him sitting down, drawing her knees up to her chest and draping her arms over them casually. “I’m sorry if that was my fault,” she said with a mumble. “Webby doesn’t know when to quit.”

He shook his head. “Not your fault, _meu querido_ , or hers. I overexerted myself is all.” José lifted a hand to run through the feathers at the back of his neck, giving her a kind smile. “An old friend of mine is trapped with an enemy of ours.”

“Wait, that Felldrake guy?” Lena blinked when she said that, then ducked her head, her cheeks brightening. “I…Webby said something once or twice about your story, and I think Aunt Magica mentioned him too. She…she wanted to know how he was sealed away, if it might have helped her own curse.”

“I suppose that’s something that they have in common.” José understood that, to some extent, but he inclined his head, pursing his beak together. “Hundreds of years ago, Felldrake trapped a goddess within a magical atlas, using her abilities to take him all over the world, to conquer it. My ancestor fought against him, as did Donald and Panchito’s with the goddess’ help, and together they sealed him into a staff.” He leaned his chin onto a hand, closing his eyes. “She remained sealed in the atlas until we inherited the New Quackmore Institute from Donald’s great grandfather, and she remains still. Felldrake, on the other hand, seems to have moved from the staff to his descendant’s body.”

Lena let him talk, her arms wrapping around her knees a little further as she listened to his story. “Did he…was he still using her when you fought him?”

José paused, reflecting on the fight. Felldrake had never explicitly called Xandra forth from the book, but he’d definitely had her golden atlas in hand. “He used her to escape from us,” he began, brow furrowing in a bit of confusion. “I…I think anyway. I blacked out.”

The young duckling looked down at her sneakers, a sardonic smirk crossing her beak. “I tried to save Webby from Aunt Magica but got myself destroyed in the process. I clung to the thing that kept me tethered to her – the friendship bracelet she made for us. Am I…” Lena paused, licking her lips as her shoulders hunched, her eyes squeezing shut. “Am I just as bad as them? As Felldrake and Aunt Magica? Because I came from Magica’s shadow and I…I wanted to hurt her to start with, to carry out Magica’s wish for revenge but…”

José felt his heart drop into his stomach at the question, and the expression on her face. He rocked forward onto his knees and closed the distance between them, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me,” he began seriously, squeezing his fingers to get her attention. “Let me tell you something someone once told me. _You are who you are_. Your parentage, where you came from, it doesn’t matter. You _are_ Lena. You aren’t that _bruxa_ ’s shadow anymore, and you don’t need to call her aunt.” José leaned back when he could see her cringe at the lack of distance between them, sitting on his knees and placing his hands in his lap. “You did a noble thing. Much more than I would have done at your age.”

She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow before she snorted. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” The parrot shook his head. “When I was younger, I had a few dozen cons under my belt already. Mostly poor unsuspecting tourists looking for a guide around Rio. I could charm and swindle with the best of them.” José sighed, returning to his cross legged position and shrugging. “You did what you had to do.” Noticing the thoughtful expression on her face, he opened his beak to speak before he was interrupted, a glow beginning to surround his body. “Ah, I believe I’m close to waking up.”

They both stood, Lena with her hand rubbing her arm and looking down at her feet. “You don’t have to keep trying to free me. I made my peace when I tried to attack Aunt Magica.”

“But, _meu querido_ ,” he said, a smile crossing his face as he tilted his hat at her. “How would I ever be able to adopt you and convince you to call me _Tio_ José if you were to remain here?”

He didn’t get the chance to look at her face before he woke, eyes blinking blearily and his head pounding. José brought a hand up to rub at them, before another came over to draw it down, his vision finally returning to normal without the spots dancing behind his eyelids. Donald came into view sitting beside him, Panchito asleep in the chair on the other side of the bed – José knew those soft snores anywhere. He sighed and relaxed, feeling the duck smooth feathers back from his head. 

“Where…?”

“Duckburg General, VIP room,” he said, voice quiet, and José tilted his head into the fingers caressing it, looking at the surroundings. White walls, a curtain drawn and the TV on mute confirmed Donald’s words. “You’ve been out for a week, Zé. We were beginning to get worried.”

“A week? I must be getting old,” he said weakly with a chuckle, voice hoarse. Donald passed him some water, which he drank gratefully. “The mission?”

“Well, Felldrake got away, but we got my sister back,” Donald said as he retrieved the paper cup once the parrot was done, setting it on the rollaway table. “April, May and June have been on the lookout for him but no sign just yet. Della’s…getting to know the boys.” He cast a glance to the blue curtain separating the two sides of the room, where José could pick up the whispers again. “Uncle Scrooge insisted on only paying for the one room, so you guys need to share for a while.”

“Ah, sounds like the old miser.” José relaxed back against his pillow, then paused. “In that case, he…”

“Oh yeah. He knows.” Donald sighed heavily, flopping into his chair. “I think he’s been too busy worrying about Della’s mental health to tongue lash me. I think she’s getting sick of the doctors.”

“Your sister is okay?”

“A bit malnourished but yeah. She seemed to be fine. Whatever was shielding the dark side of the moon from discovery must have slowed her ageing and depleted her dependency on food and water.” He chuckled a bit morosely. “I guess I’m the older brother now.” Donald looked at him and gave José a weak smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Mmm.” José tilted his head to look at Donald, smiling softly. “How do you feel about a daughter?” At the look on Donald’s face he giggled. “I met Webby’s friend. She seems like a good girl, if a bit misguided. I think the three of us could be good for her when I bring her out of the realm between.”

Donald shook his head with a smirk. “After three rascal boys, I think I can handle a teenage shadow.”

“Good.” José’s smile grew bigger. “Because I think I have a way to bring her back.”


	17. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge scolds the Three Caballeros while Louie gets to know his mom and where he fits into the family.

They discharged José a day or so after he woke.

Della was due to stay there a bit longer before she was transferred to McDuck Manor – Scrooge insisted she get the best care she could – and though she was getting frustrated just laying around doing nothing, Donald constantly brought the boys to visit their mother. They had ten years to make up for after all, and under the watchful eye of their uncle, they sat around her bed as she got to know them.

Scrooge called the Three Caballeros to his office in the manor, and had already given them a thorough talking to over the use of magic in his house without his knowledge. Finally, he sighed and placed the paper that he had been using to point at them down on the mahogany desk in front of him, steepling his fingers as he regarded José, who was rubbing his own fingers around his hat nervously. “Lad, I know your intentions were noble at the very least, but Donald, you of all people should know how I feel about magic.”

“I know, Uncle Scrooge.” The younger duck placed a hand on José’s shoulder, Panchito supporting the middle of their smaller lover’s back with his own, glaring at Scrooge defiantly like the overprotective rooster he was. “We were never sure it was going to work, but José thinks he has a way to bring Lena back.”

“It occurred to me while I was talking to her in the realm between, _senhor_ , that I overlooked quite the obvious physical attachments that she has to this plane.” José paused, looking at Scrooge for a sign to continue and receiving an incline of the head to do so. He inhaled and straightened his shoulders, Donald giving him a look that said it was okay. “That being the friendship bracelet that Miss Webbigail made for her in mind, and the young lady herself. She is already part of Miss Webby’s shadow, at least some part of her is, but the diary that the kids retrieved should provide me with a link to her personality. Using both I should, theoretically, be able to bring her from the realm between to the physical plane.”

“Have you ever done this before, Mister Carioca?” Scrooge’s tone was serious, his eyes squinting at the parrot over his spectacles. “Because if you put my ward in danger, even if it is to bring Lena back…”

“I would never dream of harming anyone,” José responded angrily, his tail feathers straightening behind his back at the mere suggestion. “My magic is…I can manipulate shadows and sizes, smoke, shapes. That is all. But the children have put their confidence in me to bring their friend back, and so I must at the very least try.” He huffed and placed his hat back on his head, both of his hands going to wrap around his umbrella. “I take full responsibility for whatever happens, but I promise you that I only have the best intentions, _Senhor_ Scrooge.”

Scrooge seemed to mull over his answer, his fingertips tapping his chin from where he had them pressed together, elbows resting on the armrests of his office chair. Looking at Donald, his nephew gave him a pleading look, causing him to sigh. “Alright, lad, I believe you. But I want you boys to come to me next time, _before_ you decide to start using magic in my own house.”

“You have my word.” José visibly brightened, looking at his partners and they nodded as well.

“Now, is there anything I can do to help?” Scrooge got up from his chair, taking hold of his cane and walking around the desk to stand in front of them, his other hand going to his hip. “Supplies that you need for spell ingredients that might be difficult to get? I have a few grimoires in my archives I believe.”

“Then we can start there, and work our way in.” José bowed his head. “ _Obrigado_ , _senhor_.”

“Call me Uncle Scrooge. You boys _are_ married to Donald after all, officially as of today.” The looks on their faces were ones of incredulous surprise, making him chuckle as he pulled the marriage certificate off the desk, handing it to them. “All it requires is your signatures. That was the _other_ reason I called you into my office. Much cheaper than an actual wedding.”

Panchito made a small choked noise, Donald and José looking at each other before the three of them embraced, a muffled “ _gracias_ ” and “thank you” coming from them.

It was official.

——————————————

Louie blinked blearily as he woke up, rising from the duckling pile that consisted of his brothers at the foot of their mother’s hospital bed. The one good thing about the VIP suite was that the bed was big and comfy, and Della had sung them to sleep, something they hadn’t gotten much of since Uncle Donald brought her home. After he spent a minute debating whether to go back to sleep or not (Dewey’s stomach looked so comfy), Louie climbed over his sleeping brothers and off the bed, a quick scan of the room telling him where his mom was.

She was standing over by the window, looking down at the city with hunched shoulders and hands clasped at the edge, her gown draped haphazardly over her tail feathers at the back. Della’s hair cascaded down, long and tangled, the moonlight almost giving her a halo around her body. He hesitated a bit, licking his beak before calling softly. “Mom?”

Della stilled, her head tilting downward before she looked over her shoulder at him, smiling awkwardly. “Llewellyn? Go back to sleep.”

“It’s Louie,” he said for what was probably the umpteenth time, though he held no bite to it now. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked over to join her at the window, watching her smack her forehead and let out a disgruntled noise.

“Right, right. Sorry. I’m…”

“It’s okay. You’re still adjusting.” Louie pursed his beak together, shrugging and then tilting his head. “Is something wrong, mom? You look…kinda out of it.”

“It’s nothing a kid should worry about,” she responded, rubbing at one of her arms as she looked out the window again, up at the moon. She chuckled a little morosely. “I’m still having trouble with…I mean, last time I saw you three, you were just eggs. Eggs that I had to try to convince Donald not to juggle.” Della looked down at Louie, then at the two boys still sleeping on her bed.

Louie blinked. That was new information. He snorted. “No way. _Uncle Donald_ tried to juggle us? Do you remember how big our eggs were?”

“I do. He dropped one of you.” She sighed a bit at the memory. “I guess us repressed gays try too hard to impress people we have crushes on. The things I did to impress Selene are kind of embarrassing too.”

“Huh. I guess that explains some things about Dewey.” Louie hopped up onto the wider part of the window sill, then shook his head. “Wait, Selene?”

“Mmhmm.” The kids had told her all about their adventures with their uncles; Della knew that Dewey had, at least, met her old girlfriend. She looked up at the moon again, leaning down on her elbows so she was at his height, looking at him. “So what do you like? I know Huey’s a nerd like Fethry used to be, and Dewey’s a hyperactive little shit. Where do you fit?”

“Me?” Louie gave a small shrug, leaning against the window and looking over his shoulder out of it at the world below. “I like the first sip of Pep, my favourite thing is a lazy day in. I’m not a nerd or anything like either of them.” He paused, then glanced at her. “I…I was a little scared to meet you, mom. Everyone always says how much Huey and Dewey are like you, but I don’t know about me.” His brow furrowed. “What part of the great Della Duck am I?”

Della frowned, then sighed and rolled her eyes. “What on earth have your uncles been telling you?” She moved away from her spot and placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing and smiling gently. “You’re _you_ , Louie. And that’s all that matters to me, as it should to you.”

Some part of Louie, some long forgotten part, buried in the back of his head and pushed away under layers of other things, suddenly felt filled, like it had been missing. He brought a hand up, wiping the heel of his hand at his eye and sniffing before he slid off his seat and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach, much to Della’s surprise. “Thanks, mom.”

She relaxed from her tensed body, leaning down to return the hug. “Anytime. Now how about we go back to bed and you can explain to me just what a ‘me-me’ is, huh, kiddo?”

“Oh boy. Dewey really got you with those, didn’t he?”

“Yeeeep.”


	18. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some very caring adults, and a child, bring back someone deserving of life.

José hated to admit it, but Scrooge had _resources_.

He only needed a few things for the actual spell, but the billionaire had gone to lengths to make sure that he had the space necessary for the ritual. The library just wouldn’t cut it after all, especially with the amount of adults in the room. Scrooge had cancelled all his meetings, Beakley was there to make sure nothing would happen to her granddaughter and his husbands ( _husbands_ , that was gonna take some getting used to) stood by just in case. Duckworth was on stand by in the ethereal plane as well; they were taking all the precautions necessary.

It had taken them a few days to scour through the grimoires in Scrooge’s archives to even try to find a spell that might be remotely helpful. During that time Della had been discharged from the hospital and was currently occupying the triplets by getting to know her sons a bit more.

Just like before, he sat across from Webbigail, the room dark and lit by as many candles as Beakley had been able to find in the mansion, so that their shadows would show. Between them now, though, lay a diary and the friendship bracelet that Webby had barely taken off since the Shadow War, a faint blue glow surrounding them both and their hands joined together over the items. Webby’s shadow rose from the floor behind her, more solid now than it had ever been as José spoke in some tongue, but no Portuguese that Webby knew.

She steeled herself, gripping his hands tight. She had to put her faith in him. For Lena’s sake.

José glowed a light green that matched his feathers, the aura seeping into the light blue surrounding the items and causing them to turn a cyan. Webby’s own pink aura flared, merging and causing it to explode in an aura of lavender which swirled over the diary and bracelet, her shadow floating across the floor to the lavender glow. Like ink, it melted, bubbling and pooling, the flickering candles making the shadow seem to spread, before something started forming on top of the items between them. It wasn’t solid by any means, but it slowly began to pull itself together, first feet and hands, then legs and arms, then a body and a head.

Lena jerked back, inhaling sharply as the ritual came to an end and the glows vanished, her eyes wide and wild. She felt her chest grip tight, like an actual heart thudded inside of her, and she sat back on her haunches, lifting her head to stare first at José, then turning to glance at Webby, who swayed slightly as their hands dropped. “Webby!” She ducked forward, scooping the smaller duck up into her arms and shuddering, feeling a sob tighten in her chest. “I’m sorry! I…I didn’t mean…!”

“Lena!” Webby laughed softly, reaching to hug her back and lean into the touch of the shadow girl, burying her face in her shoulder as she heard the adults around them breathe a sigh of relief. “Don’t be silly, you beautiful angel, I already said I didn’t care what you did and I meant it.” She rubbed her back soothingly as Donald and Panchito hurried over to support José, the rooster taking most of his weight.

“You did it, _amor_ ,” he said warmly, watching Scrooge and Beakley hover over the girls in concern before he looked down at the smaller parrot. “You brought her back.”

Lena cradled Webby in her arms, her shoulders sagging as she breathed heavily before looking at the billionaire and his housekeeper. “I’m sorry I lied,” she croaked out, glancing down at the top of Webby’s head and then back up at them. “Aunt…Magica wouldn’t let me do anything but. I…I was her shadow and…”

“There’s no need to explain.” Beakley unfolded the blanket that she had in her hands and draped it around the girls’ shoulders, placing a hand on her head and frowning when she saw her flinch. “You saved me, in the underground train system. You saved Webby and the boys from the money shark, and you stood up to Magica. Welcome home, dear.”

Both girls cried as the Three Caballeros watched on, José smiling with some content as he leaned into his husband’s arms. There was no need to bring up adoption right now. What they all needed, and he agreed with Scrooge’s sentiments as the old man brought it up, was a good night’s rest.

They could deal with everything else in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short and sweet, but needed. The next few chapters will be dedicated to bringing Felldrake down, so stay tuned.


	19. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della can’t sleep.

Della found herself unable to sleep.

Ever since her brother and his husbands had brought her back from the moon, she’d had trouble. It was strange, having two feet firmly on the ground and not having to worry about oxygen, or scrounging through space trash for food. The doctors had been in awe at her ability to have survived all this time, and to be truthful, so was she. Ten years had passed on Earth while, in space, it seemed to be a much shorter timespan, and in that ten years, her brother and uncle had stopped talking to each other, and her eggs had hatched and were now three grown boys.

The halls of McDuck Manor were familiar, like the back of her hand. She remembered exploring these corridors with Donald in tow, warning her that Uncle Scrooge would be mad if they messed with anything. The house itself was dead quiet, nothing but a whisper of wind blowing through some opened window. Della tilted her head into its caress, sighing softly as she came to the kitchens, blinking when she noticed the light illuminating from the doorway.

It flicked off and then out stepped…

“Huey?”

Her oldest son jumped ever so slightly, a glass of milk in his hands, but he looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked at her a little nervously, then glanced down, his hands tightening around his glass. “M-mornin’, mom. I couldn’t sleep so…” He gestured feebly to the glass in hand, then looked at her. “I’ll go back to bed in a minute. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“No, it’s okay.” She shook her head, her long hair falling about her shoulders. “I couldn’t sleep myself.”

“…is something bothering you?”

Della blinked a bit before she chuckled. “Perceptive for a kid, but I guess you take after Uncle Scrooge in that regard.” She gestured for him to join her, a small smile on her face when he followed her back into the kitchen, her hand flicking on the light and reaching for the kettle. “I guess I’m still getting acclimatised.”

“Oh right.” Huey slid into a seat at the small kitchen table, placing his glass of milk down as he watched her begin the process of making a cup of tea before he got up again when he noticed her hands shaking. “Here, let me.” He reached to take it from her, filling it and putting it back into place to boil. “You need to be careful, mom. Remember that the doctors said not to strain yourself.”

Della frowned a bit before she relented, taking a seat instead and he proceeded to fix her tea up for her. After spending so much time on the moon alone, she wasn’t used to people just yet, and the mansion’s dark halls allowed her to be by herself. There was so many occupants now, what with Donald and his husbands, her sons and Launchpad, Scrooge, Mrs Beakley and the two girls.

“How do you like your tea, mom?”

Huey’s question snapped her out of her thoughts, looking up from where her hands were wringing themselves together in front of her. “White, two sugar,” she replied simply, watching him place an unused teabag in, before following it up with the sugar and boiled water. Della stopped when he looked over his shoulder at her, pausing and waiting for her to continue. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay, mom.” Huey gave her a small smile as he brought her cup over to her, hesitating for a moment after he sat it down. “It’s valerian. According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, it helps sleeplessness.”

“I remember something similar in my old Chickadee Guidebook,” Della replied, humming softly as she picked up her tea and took a sip. “Mm. Nice.”

“ _You_ were a Chickadee, mom?” Huey suddenly looked excited as she nodded, leaning back in her seat.

“Your cousin Fethry and I were the only ones interested in the JWs and Chickadees when we were kids,” she explained, rolling her wrist a little. “Gladstone and Donald would’ve preferred otherwise, and Granny needed help on the farm.”

“Wow I…can’t imagine Uncle Gladstone doing any sort of farmhand work,” Huey responded, his hands curving around the back of one of the chairs. “Uncle Donald maybe, but definitely not Uncle Gladstone.”

Della chuckled a bit, taking another sip of tea as she watched him sit down across from her, his glass of milk being set down on the table. “Granny made sure Gladstone worked, don’t worry. Donnie used to come in up to his knees in mud and whatever else he’d been doing. Gladstone’s luck would usually cancel out anything bad that might happen to Donnie, so they needed to work together.”

“That…actually makes sense.” Huey hated to admit it, but it did. Having born witness to Gladstone being the prisoner of a luck demon, he had written Gladstone’s uncanny good luck down in the JWG, which meant it was scientific fact. He took a gulp of milk before he spoke again. “I’m glad you’re home, mom.”

Della smiled, both tiredly and a little sad. “Me too, kiddo. Did you want me to walk you back to your room?”

He shook his head and went to open his mouth before Louie interrupted them, standing in the doorway with Dewey, Webby and Lena not far behind him if the footsteps pounding down the hall were any indication. The green duckling leaned forward, gasping for his breath and holding up a hand signalling them to wait before he raised a hand, holding up a note. Huey put his glass of milk down and walked over, taking the note from his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder as the other three finally came to stand behind him at the doorway, far less exhausted.

“What is it?” Della frowned, standing from her seat.

“It’s…it’s a note from Uncle Donald.” Huey’s fingers gripped around the paper, crumpling it in alarm. “He, _Tio_ José and _Tío_ ‘Chito have all gone off to face Felldrake!”

—————————

Donald’s beak was turned downward into a grim line as he parked the station wagon outside of the New Quackmore Institute where Ari was waiting for them, bobbing up and down on the bottom step. The decision to leave so early in the morning hadn’t been an easy one, but they could reflect on it later after the battle.

_If_ they could reflect on it later.

José wrapped his hands around his umbrella, his shoulders hunched as he got out of the car after Panchito. His magic felt fully restored, his fingers flexing and ready, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for leaving Lena so soon though he knew she was in good hands. One look at Donald and Panchito told him they felt the same way, taking one of his arms each and leaning into each other.

Ari chittered and chirped, tilting their head inquisitively at the Three Caballeros as they came closer, before they zipped up the staircase, beckoning them inside. Panchito chuckled a bit morosely, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “Feels a bit like we’re walkin’ to our deaths, eh, fellas?”

“Don’t say that,” Donald snapped irritably, his tail wriggling in annoyance in the air behind him. He’d barely spoken a word on the ride over, and José knew why – he was leaving behind so much more than they were.

“Indeed. When did we begin to have such defeatist attitudes, _amor_?” José clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth at his taller husband. “We were cowards before, yes, but we have something to fight for now. Felldrake is a threat to what we hold dear, and we must rescue Xandra.”

“Well said.” The three of them looked up to see Ari zip over to the girls, who were all standing in the foyer ready to go, packs at their feet. May and June hadn’t changed much over the years, just gotten taller like their sister, with May now sporting an undercut and June a braid over her shoulder, a bike helmet stashed under her arm which she dropped to come forward and wrap her arms individually around their shoulders. “Oh, it’s so good to see you guys!”

“And you,” Panchito replied after he was squeezed, coughing and looking at June when she pulled back. “ _Caramba_ , you’ve gotten so big!”

June laughed as she stood back with her sisters, tucking her arms behind her. “I did join the army you know.”

“So what’s the plan?” Donald asked, cutting right to the chase and interrupting the chatter between the two. “Assuming we have one.”

“I managed to shoot Leopold with a tracking chip last time I saw him over Calisota,” May said casually, leaning back against her heel and crossing her arms. “Assuming he goes wherever Felldrake does, they’ve been hanging out down in South America over the last couple of weeks or so.” She turned her head to look at José. “In Brazil.”

José’s fingers tightened around his umbrella, his beak turning downward into a frown. “ _Diabo_ ,” he cussed under his breath, Donald nudging him and making him look down at his hand. Magic was ‘leaking’ from his hand, and he very nearly struggled to pull it back in. To think that Felldrake was in his homeland…it was infuriating. “I’m assuming you girls have a way of getting us there.”

“I have a friend waiting up on the helipad, and we have your gear packed,” June said almost nonchalantly, and without much else being said, there was an almost unanimous agreement to go. The girls picked up their duffle bags, hauling them over their shoulders and Donald and his husbands followed behind them, Ari zipping ahead and chittering as the bear rug lumbered behind them. An almost deafening silence hung between them, all seven having one thought on their minds.

Getting their friend back.

April opened the door to the helipad, large enough to contain the small plane that certainly didn’t look like it was going to get them to Brazil, let alone Mexico. Donald paused when he saw the pilot, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. “Launchpad?”

He turned, looking at him with a surprised look on his face. “Oh hey, Mr Dee. You and your friends are coming with us?”

“Launchpad, they’re the guys I told you about,” June said gently, then looked between them. “You guys already know each other?”

“Uh, yeah, he works for my uncle,” Donald said, frowning slightly. It was surprising but at the very same time, he couldn’t begin to say how much of a small world Duckburg and Quackmore were. “Did Uncle Scrooge set you up for this?”

“Nah, Mr McDee doesn’t know anything about this,” Launchpad said with a shake of his head as he turned to help the girls load their cargo on, to which Donald sighed a bit in relief. “I taught June how to fly in the airforce, and she asked me to come along on this mission as co-pilot.”

Donald pursed his beak together, then remembered what Launchpad had told him about his ex girlfriend in Macaw. Something he said made him start, though. “Wait, If you taught June how to fly…”

“Yup! LP’s a great teacher,” she chirped, settling into the pilot’s seat after giving Ari a goodbye hug, taking the headset hanging from the console.

The older duck palmed his face as the Caballeros and girls climbed into the back of the plane, suddenly regretting his decision not to say goodbye in person. “We’re all gonna die.”


	20. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> José provides a recap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay folks! Mum had a mini heart attack and I’ve been helping out around the house since school finished, to explain the absence of this chapter in your lifes. Hope you enjoy :’)

“Argh, I’m going to kill that boy when I get my hands on him.” Scrooge wrapped his coat around his waist and buttoned it up so that it kept itself together, his niece standing in the doorway. The kids had been ushered back to bed, though the clock read four in the morning. “Nay, I’m killin’ the lot of them, an’ I’ll skin their carcasses an’ use their feathers for pillows.”

His Scottish accent came out thicker when he was angry, and having just been woken up with the news that Donald and the boys were gone – a quick scout of the garage told them that Launchpad was missing too and he knew why. Scrooge muttered something in Gaelic that Della only half picked up before he grabbed his cane and turned around to face her. “Of all the idiot ideas that your brother has had in his head for the last decade, this really takes th’ cake.”

“He means well but I don’t think Donnie realises,” she said gently, trying to placate her uncle’s rage. It was really the first time the two of them had spoken alone since her return that hadn’t involved him yelling at the hospital staff, and Della could see his age. Suspended animation, dimension jumping and whatever else had kept Scrooge’s age at bay could not fathom the way anger made his wrinkles appear or his face become stretched and withered. She toyed with her hair before speaking, still not entirely used to conversations with people that weren’t herself. “I was with them on the moon. Felldrake tried to befriend me before they showed up and he unleashed this…terrible magic. You saw how unconscious José was when they came back; he used his supply because Felldrake was using their friend.”

“Och, he’s just a magic user,” Scrooge said as he waved his hand nonchalantly, brushing past her to walk out of the bedroom. “Take away a magician’s source of power and they’re weak. Once Magica’s staff cracked on Donald’s head during the shadow war it was all over. Tell me; you still remember how to fly, right dear?”

Della followed after her uncle, unaware of the peeking eyes coming from the other rooms. Once they had disappeared down the corridor, Huey Dewey and Louie came tumbling out of one room while Webby and Lena fell head over heels on top of each other. Lena flushed, scrambling off of her best friend and helping her up while the triplets pushed and shoved at each other. “I remember researching Felldrake for Magica,” she said, brushing herself off and looking at the younger kids. “He’s bad. Like, take Magica and multiply the nastiness by a thousand bad. And that was just when he was trapped in a staff.”

“Uncle Donald and our _Tío_ s fought him before,” Huey said, brushing his polo off and straightening his cap once he got out of the duckling pile. He looked at their cousin, tilting his head. “The chances of doing the same thing again must be a billion to one.”

Lena made a disgruntled noise in the back of he throat and wrapped her arms around herself, Webby reaching to rub her elbow. She looked at the other girl with a small, If not worried smile before she shrugged in response to his question. “Uncle Scrooge is right though; take away a sorcerer or sorceress’s token and they’re powerless.” She pursed her beak together. “But Felldrake doesn’t have a token anymore since his staff got destroyed last time.”

“I overheard them saying he got trapped inside Sheldgoose’s body,” Webby said, tapping her fingers against her hip as they started walking down the corridor in the opposite direction of Scrooge and Della. “So…do they have to destroy the body this time?”

“Who knows?” Lena inclined her head at the question, stopping and not looking up when they all turned to look at her, different expressions on their faces. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her eyes on her shadow.

“What’s wrong?” Dewey asked, glancing at his brothers and their sister before turning his attention back to Lena. “If you’re worried, Uncle Donald’s been on plenty of adventures and they took care of this Felldrake guy last time, this time should be a snap.”

“It’s not that, I just…” Lena inhaled slightly, shaking her head. She wasn’t used to sharing her thoughts or feelings with the other kids just yet, but she shut her eyes so they wouldn’t see the look in them. “I can’t help but feel like they left because they don’t want me…”

Louie looked up from his phone at that, slipping it into his pocket as he stuffed his hands in there, squaring his shoulders as he faced her. “Lena, Uncle Zé wouldn’t have tried to bring you back if they didn’t want you.” He held up a hand as his siblings made noises in the back of their throats at his words. “Look, using magic clearly exerts his energy and if I could do it, I wouldn’t waste my time putting it into something I didn’t want. I’d use it for something like, I dunno, levitating a can of Pep so I didn’t have to reach for it. And I know Uncle Donald and Uncle Panch enough to know that it would’ve killed them to leave you behind. Heck, Uncle Donald didn’t let us breathe on our own for several years without panicking over it.” Louie looked at her square in the eyes, noticing the way Lena’s face scrunched up. He knew it would do her no good to sugar coat anything, and if she was anything like him, he would’ve needed to know the truth. “ _They want you_ , Lena, make no mistake about it, but they want you to be _safe_ with the rest of us. You’ve been through enough. Just trust that they’ll come back.”

She stared at him for a good minute before she smirked and giggled a little, Huey and Dewey watching Webby’s face grow red at the sound with some amusement. “You’re right. Thanks, Green. I’m…not used to having a family yet. One that cares anyway.”

“Well, you’re part of the right family now.” Louie took hold of her elbow as they continued down the hallway, chattering amiably amongst themselves and leaving Webby, Huey and Dewey to hurry to catch up to them. Louie was right; they’d come back.

They had to.

——————————————

Launchpad and June had landed the plane upstream on the Amazon, May’s tracker having pinpointed Leopold in some obscure location in the rainforest that they couldn’t reach by flight. They trooped single file through the underbrush and the overgrown leaves, taking care to push rather than cut them down, Donald taking the lead with Launchpad bringing up the rear behind the girls.

“Has it always been this warm, José?” June asked, looking over her shoulder at him where she pushed through the undergrowth after Panchito, the parrot shrugging at the question.

“I have never truly ventured where the Amazon is concerned, my dear, but my friends in Rio have said in the past that it feels like it’s getting warmer at unseasonal times of the year.” He grunted a bit as he slid down the next small slope after her, reaching back to help April before he was brushed off with a wave of her hand. “But truthfully, Rio is nowhere near here. We are hundreds of miles away.”

“Mexico too. M’ma has said about it in her emails,” Panchito said, looking back along their travel line and using his hand to hold onto his sombrero. “Too warm sometimes. Tourists can’t handle the heat, so there hasn’t been as many stays at the ranch this year compared to when I was younger.”

“You don’t suppose it has something to do with Felldrake, do you?” April asked, adjusting the strap of her pack.

“Anything’s possible,” Donald replied, looking at José, his husband shrugging once more.

“I’m afraid our magic is too different for me to take a guess,” he said, looking out across the river with a small sigh and his shoulders slackening. “It is possible, but from what we saw of his magic last time, I would say that it doesn’t affect the weather so much as speed along that which is already in development.”

“Well he did kinda rip apart time and space,” May reminded them, frowning and smacking her tracker when the light she was following them on flickered. “Damn thing. You’d think the military would have top quality trackers I could’ve pilfered but noooo…”

“Show me.” April held out her hand and May handed her sister the tracker, the duck in yellow fetching a screwdriver from her fanny pack and a pair of pliers. The group stopped walking so that she would be able to work, Donald frowning slightly and sighing before dropping his pack.

“We have been walking a little while,” he said, gesturing for Launchpad to hand him one of the canteens from the larger man’s pack. “Felldrake’s been gone for fifteen years, we can wait a few minutes to get to him.”

“Uh, just who is this guy anyway?” Launchpad asked as he handed him the requested item, handing one over to the girls as well and sitting down on a fallen log. “June didn’t tell me any specifics about the mission, just that the world could be in danger.”

“Sorry, LP, we were kinda pressed for time,” she apologised after taking a swig from the canteen, handing it off to May as they sat down on either side of April, glancing at the Caballeros sheepishly. “And I don’t have a spare copy of April’s book that has illustrations like a flight manual, so…”

“Oooooh story time!” Panchito took perch on a rock while his husbands stood near him, sharing a look as José chuckled around the canteen in his hands.

“Panchi, you already know how the story goes.”

“A recap couldn’t hurt, and Launchpad needs to know who we’re facing,” Donald responded, leaning against Panchito’s rock. He looked at José, tilting his head. “While April fixes the tracker. You’ve always been the best story teller out of the three of us, Zé.”

“Yes, but I don’t have the visual effects that Xandra had.” The parrot rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath in Portuguese now that everyone was staring at him. He held his hands up, making an ‘alright alright’ gesture as he cleared his throat, pulling out a cigar and lighting it, inhaling smoke and exhaling the results. “Centuries ago, a sorcerer named Felldrake sought to conquer the world. He had a magic atlas in his hands, and within it had trapped the beautiful goddess of adventure, Xandra, to do his bidding. She could transport him to anywhere in the world, from Mexico to Greece and back in the snap of her fingers.”

Panchito looked at Donald, sharing a glance with him. They both knew about and had supported José when Xandra hadn’t returned his affections, all those years ago, something that had drawn them closer together. The way he said her name made their hearts ache a bit though, but that was fine. Donald linked his fingers with Panchito’s, feeling the rooster caress the pad of his hand with his thumb. Just like Donald would always care someway for Daisy, José would likely always care about Xandra too.

“Just when everything seemed like the world would burn in his never ending fire, heroes rose to challenge him.” José shook some ash from his cigar and made it flare in smoke, earning gasps from the girls and Launchpad as he created images with it, silhouettes but images all the same. “The original Three Caballeros, our ancestors, trapped him with the help of the sorcerer Blazebeak in his staff, ending his reign of terror. Xandra, ever grateful, journeyed with them across the world to put an end to Felldrake’s empire, helping them seek treasure and glory, but during one battle, her book fell shut and remained so for decades.”

He kept recreating scene for scene, using smoke and shadows to illustrate the scenes that Xandra had shown them right at the very beginning. José paused, inhaling from his cigar and exhaling as he brushed it away with a flick of his wrist, gaining their attention. “Until Donald, Panchito and I inherited Donald’s great grandfather’s life’s work. Uncovering the secrets of the Three Caballeros. It set of a chain of events that led to Felldrake’s reawakening, and us releasing Xandra from her book.”

“I still can’t believe you guys were gonna sell all of that stuff,” April piped up from her work, closing the back of the tracking device with a snap of the lid. “Aunt Daisy ended up putting most of it into a museum dedicated to the artefacts that Clinton Coot had recovered during his time as an adventurer.”

“We know, we attended the gala,” Panchito said with a chuckle, sharing a sheepish look with his husbands. “To be honest, we were all flat broke.”

“Not to mention homeless,” Donald agreed with a wry smile twisting his beak. He turned to Launchpad, tilting his head. “You following along, big guy?”

He nodded. “Yeah. So this Felldrake guy is back?”

“Yup.”

“And we need to stop him, right?” There were nods all around. Launchpad sighed, his shoulders slouching. “Oh good. Because I think he’s right over…”

“There!” April pointed the tracker in the direction of a clearing just nearby, the group picking up their packs and sprinting as they heard maniacal laughter.

“Girls! Weapons!” José snapped, the distinct clang of metal reaching his ears as he reached out behind him. May handed him his sword from her back, April and June doing the same with Donald’s and Panchito’s spear. They stopped just inches from the thicket, staring at the sight that presented them with…

Felldrake von Sheldgoose and Magica de Spell? Deep in an argument?


	21. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della and Scrooge finally talk, while Donald and the boys face an...unlikely situation.

“ETA to our destination should be roughly an hour now, Uncle Scrooge.”

Della sat comfortably in the pilot’s seat of _the Sunchaser_ , toggling switches and keeping her hands on the controls. It had been a long, long time since she’d been behind the controls of anything, let alone a plane, but it was different enough to a space ship that she didn’t feel the niggling little voice of anxiety in the back of her head that she had when Donald and the boys picked her up on the moon. She felt...calm. Calmer than she had been since they had arrived back on Earth.

“Excellent, lass. Keep us on course. The tracker that I had implanted in Donald’s fillings when you were wee children should be enough for us to find them.” Scrooge held said tracking device, seated in the co-pilot’s seat where a bobble headed figure of Darkwing Duck would normally have sat.

Somehow it didn’t surprise Della that their uncle had done such a thing. Scrooge McDuck was pretty eccentric, she’d long come to understand this. Della placed both hands on the wheel, before she realised this was the first time they were alone together since she had come back. “ _The Sunchaser_ hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Aye, well, I’ve tried to keep it the same, despite Launchpad crashing it several dozen times since we started adventuring again.” Scrooge winced a bit when he remembered the last time he was in the plane, how he’d crashed it, and then caused a rift between him and the children. He wanted to tell Della about how Dewey had scared him witless by going out onto the wing, but he didn’t want to explain how that had happened in the first place. “Have you gotten to know the boys at all?”

“Mmm sort of.” Della tilted her head, looking a bit wistful. “I spent so much time on the moon wondering what they were like that I couldn’t be happier with how you and Donald raised them.”

Scrooge bit his lower beak, fingers curling around the device in his hands before he sighed. “Della, Donald was the one who raised the lads, not me. Truthfully I had no part in their lives until a year ago, and I didn’t deserve it.”

“I know.” She gave him a small smile. “Huey told me already, about how you two had a fight after I stole the Spear of Selene and Donnie didn’t even tell them about you. But you’ve been part of their lives anyway. You could’ve pushed them away but you didn’t.” Della held up her hand. “I know about the shadow war. It doesn’t matter. You came together in the end.” She sat back in her seat, turning her head to look at him. “After spending so many years on the moon, all I care about is that you know them _now_.”

The older duck gave her a smile, feeling years of guilt lift in his chest and he reached over their seats to give her a hug around the shoulders as she kept her own hands on the wheel. “Welcome back, lass. Let’s go find that brother of yours.”

“You got it, Uncle Scrooge.”

———————————————

Magica de Spell was NOT having the best day, or year for that matter.

Having had her powers drained completely during the eclipse, she had limped her way into Quackmore, seeking to recover one of the many artefacts that had been possessed by Felldrake in the hopes that it contained magic, and instead had discovered the man himself. And now of course, that was backfiring spectacularly.

Deep in the recesses of the Amazon jungle, Magica was covered in dirt, moss, maybe leeches and seething with anger as she adjusted her grip on her new staff, knuckles turning white under her feathers.

“How _dare_ you! You used me like...like _cannon fodder_!”

“So sorry, my dear.” Felldrake shrugged, waving his hand nonchalantly as his companion turned from where she had been summoned from that book he kept close to his person. “In the end, it wasn’t meant to be. Xandra, would you be so kind as to take care of her for me?” He grinned savagely, turning his attention to the entrance they had uncovered, or rather the one that _she_ had uncovered.

“That amulet is rightfully mine and you know it!” She growled, watching him turn away from her and start with his pet to head down the stairs, leaving her to face the goddess. Magica readied her staff, though the orb held no magic that could stop a literal deity, and she reached behind herself into the satchel at her side.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this.” Xandra spoke with a grit of her teeth as she readied her bow and arrow, golden light gleaming off of it in the dim forest surrounding them.

“I don’t want your pity,” she snapped, stepping a foot back as though to make a break for it. She didn’t pity Felldrake’s puppet either. She didn’t. 

A sudden shout caused both women to stumble in their steps, Magica blinking as she was shoved back behind someone, falling back to the forest floor. She recognised the back of Donald Duck, and the two on either side of him as José Carioca and Panchito Gonzalez she recalled Felldrake telling her. They held medieval type weapons in their hands, though José’s were glowing.

Xandra took a step back, her hands lowering her weapon though she still kept it pulled. “Caballeros?” Her voice quivered with some kind of emotion, before she frowned and let the arrow loose at the ground beside them, causing Panchito to yelp. “That was a warning shot,” she spat, her nose wrinkling as Felldrake escaped into the ruins with Leopold lumbering behind him.

“Xandra, _meu querido_...” José’s beak paled, the shadows around his hands faltering as he held his sword close to his body. “We thought you were looking for a release spell. How long...?”

“Get out of here, now.” She shook her head, cocking another arrow in her bow. “I’ll give you a ten second head start before I start aiming for real. Ten.”

Magica grunted as she stood, her webbed feet digging into the dirt. “You. Parrot.” José turned his head to look at her, keeping his other eye on Xandra as she counted down. “Shield spell. You know how to do one?”

“Yes, but I...”

“Felldrake has a spell on her book that makes her loyal to him and him alone, and makes her powers stronger. If you want to survive to free her, we need to combine our magic.” She held out her staff towards him, rather than her hand.

José frowned, beak twisting. He didn’t like the idea of teaming up with a woman who had caused so much misery to the child that he had rescued from the other place, but his feathers rippled when Xandra’s magic flared, sending a shiver up his spine as she counted six. Donald and Panchito looked at him, the three of them turning to face Magica, with Donald frowning at her.

“No funny business?” the duck quacked out, his voice holding a deep threat if she tried anything.

“Believe me, I want to survive as much as you do.”

Donald pursed his beak together before he turned to José. “Do it.”

Xandra’s voice counting four in his ears, José reached out to grasp Magica’s staff with his free hand, the other still holding onto the sword of his ancestor. His magic flared black against Xandra’s golden glow, swirling with Magica’s purple aura as the two of them muttered the shield spell under their breath. An orb of magic surrounded the Caballeros and the witch, Magica’s eyes fluttering open and the pupils slitted as an explosion echoed around them, digging into the ground and clearing the area of forestry.

By the time the dust cleared, Xandra was gone.

José relinquished his grip on Magica’s staff and quickly held his sword to her throat, ignoring the ache in his heart at the idea that Xandra had gone through such torment that she rejected them. “Talk, _bruxa_. What do you know?”

Magica stepped back, only to find two other weapons at different points of her body. She sighed, massaging her forehead as she leaned against her staff. “I only know that there’s an amulet down there that holds magics the likes of which you and I don’t know of, parrot.” She eyed him, tapping the end of her staff to the ground. “If Felldrake is to be stopped, he must not reach it.”

“She’s right.” June’s voice cut through the thickness of the air around them, her usual cheery tone dulled slightly. Turning to look at her, they saw her and her sisters standing at the entrance to the hidden temple. “My equipment is picking up strong magic signs.”

Panchito rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his husbands with a raised eyebrow. “What now, guys?”

“We go in, stop Felldrake, get Xandra’s book back, find some way to break the spell he has over her.” Donald twirled his sword and slid it into the sheath at his hip, before he turned to Magica. “You can come with us or leave. I don’t care.”

“Oh I’m coming. I owe Felldrake a bit of payback.” She smiled wickedly, tilting her head. “Besides, looks like your little boyfriend could use a bit of magical back up.” Magica gestured towards José, who glared at her.

“ _Eu não_!”

The witch twirled her staff as she walked ahead of the Three Caballeros, resting it on her shoulder and looking back at them. “Well? Are you coming or not, boys?”

“This is the weirdest team up ever,” Panchito muttered under his breath as they followed after her, the girls lining up behind them and they ventured into the dark temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Sorry for the lateness. Things just kept snowballing since November. Mum had shingles in February and my sister’s house was in the line of bushfires here at that time, and then mum had skin cancer to deal with. Ducktales was on hiatus until Whatever Happened to Della Duck?! was released, and then on hiatus again. My hyperfixation switched to Moomins...
> 
> It’s been a long time coming, but I hope you all enjoy this chapter for what it’s worth. I’m going to try and get this done at LEAST. Thanks for reading :)


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